You're My Ride
by Terp4Life
Summary: Linden and Holder spend a lot of time together, and yet, there's a lot that isn't said.
1. The New Guy

**Title: **You're My Ride

**Rating: **T for some language

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Summary:** Linden and Holder spend a lot of time together, and yet, there's a lot that isn't said.

**Spoilers: **This chapter only spoils season 1, ep 1

**Chapter 1**

DAY 1

Sarah Linden was in her office when someone bumped into the doorframe on their way in.

She looks up. "Uh, who are… can I help you?"

"Yeah, this is my office," said a scruffy, nervous looking man.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Holder, from County. Are you Linden?"

"Yeah, I'm Linden."

"I thought you'd be outta here by now. But I mean if you need more time I can wait outside…"

"No that's OK. No no no, come on in. I'm almost done."

Holder accidentally knocks Linden's box off the desk as he sets down his own. She jumps up to get it.

"I got it!"

"My bad. So, I hear you're moving to LA."

"San Francisco area."

"Oakland?"

"Sonoma."

"That's nice." Holder is trying to make conversation.

"Yep." Linden isn't make it easy for him.

"Nice weather, ocean, beaches… I hate that shit!"

"You must love this place then."

In the middle of this slightly awkward conversation, Lt. Oakes arrives with an assignment for Linden. "We got a call down at Discovery Park. Check it out."

"On my last day? My flight's tonight." Linden is not amused.

"You're still on the city's dime. You can hand it off end of shift, six o'clock. Go on, do your job. And take him. Show him how to work a scene."

"I know how to work a scene," Holder assures her after Oakes has left the room.

"Grab a box. We'll take my car. Over there."

They leave the office together, for the **first** time. But not the last. This is only the beginning.

_Holder_

First day! It may sound dumb, but I'm excited. I'm in the big time. Homicide. OK, it wasn't my original destination, but I'm here. And yeah, it's because I kinda – no, make that majorly – fucked up… but whatever, it's gonna be great. A new beginning and all that shit. It sounds corny, even in my head, but I can't help but feel like whether I wanted it or not, it's the new start I needed.

Another chance. A chance to show everyone that I _can_ do it. That I'm not just a _piece of shit tweak head_, like they all seem to think I am. Do I deserve that label? Shit, maybe I do. I dunno, I mean yeah, I totally fucked up. Cops aren't supposed to end up getting addicted themselves. I deserved to be booted from Narcotics. No one to blame but myself. I did it, and now I'm going to take the consequences and come back from it. I just… damn, it's hard. I dunno. But I'm here now, and it's all good. Six months clean. One day at a time.

This Linden chick? I mean everyone's a critic and all, but damn… I already feel like I can't do nothing right with her, and I just met her. But she's on the way out, so I guess it don't matter. If she were sticking around, I'm sure I could bring her around. I mean come on, what's not to like?

_Linden_

Last day. I still can't believe it, that I'm leaving all this. But it's gonna be a good change. Healthy. I've been waiting a long time for a chance like this. _Stability_. I can admit that I have a tendency to get a _little_ too involved in the cases that I work. OK, that may be an understatement… And especially the ones involving kids. When there's kids involved in homicide cases, it's just so unfair. Adults do such stupid things, and it hurts the kids so badly. Having something like that in your past, that can scar you for your entire life! And _I_ know about scars…

Living in Sonoma with Rick and Jack is going to be such a relief. It really is all for the best. Will I miss it? The job? People keep asking me that lately. Well, I guess so. I mean, I've lived and breathed this job for years now. And I'm really good at it, or so they tell me… And of course I've never lived anywhere else. But there's so many ghosts here for me, so many unpleasant memories… no, it'll definitely be good to get away.

So this Holder guy that's replacing me? _Really?_ WOW! I mean, I'm sure – wait, I'm _not_ actually sure, come to think of it – but he_ may_ be a decent enough guy, he just seems totally incompetent. Like, he's already worked as a cop, so why does he seem so clueless? It doesn't surprise me that he came from Narcotics, he certainly looks the part. More like a _junkie_. He must've fit in really well undercover… except, then why is he_ here_?

It's not my problem, though. I'm glad I'm not going to be here to have to deal with him. I feel sorry for whoever ends up as _his_ partner. The guy is a _MESS_!

Nope, I'm headed in the right direction… away from all of this. Away from my messy past. Seattle. Really. I _am_. In a few short hours, Sonoma, and my new life, here I come.


	2. Discovery Park

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers:** Season 1, day 1

DAY 1

Linden and Holder are at Discovery Park. A few items had been recovered, but there's no body to examine.

"You find anything else, mark it, don't move it, and call in Sex Crimes, this is theirs for now."

"Yo! We got here first!" As far as Holder's concerned, they're just getting started.

"Yeah, and we don't got a body."

"Not _**yet**_**."**

"You wanna follow it up, go for it."

"You my _ride_, Linden."

"So I'll drop you off at the station. I need to finish packing up."

"I thought you were done. Flight's not til 9:00, right? I won't let you miss it. Promise."

_Holder_

My first day in Homicide and I got put on a case almost as soon as I walked in the door! Not even time to unpack one box, barely enough time to make small talk with Linden, who's apparently the human pitbull. It's perfect – I sure didn't become a cop to sit behind a desk. Gotta be where the action is. I'm hoping there's something more to this case... not much to go on so far, but you never know. The busier I am, the less I think about other things. Temptations, old habits, things that got me here in the first place.

So Oakes told me to ride with Linden, so she could "show me how to work a scene," and she was _not_ happy to be sent out to the park. She was even less happy about investigating a case that so far don't have a body to go with it. Some kids had found an ATM card and a sweater there this morning. I hope this turns out to be something, though. I just need the chance to prove myself – to everyone – like, _now_. I can feel their eyes on me, wondering what I got transferred up here for… I hate that feeling.

One thing I know already, Linden don't seem to like me too much. Course, she don't know nothing about me. Then again, she don't seem too happy with nobody. I mean, I get it, who wants to start doing real work on a case on their last day at a job? So she's pissed. And yeah, I guess she was in a hurry to get back to the station since she knew she was gonna hand off the case in a few hours anyway. Who cares, right? I mean, I've never been like that, but some people sure are. Guess that's why I was suited for undercover – no problem putting myself all the way into a case. Eating, sleeping and breathing it. She don't seem too broken up about it being her last day, or the fact that she's not gonna know how this one ends. Me, I'd get curious. But then, it sounds like she's got a good thing where she's headed.

Come to think of it, for a department of people who all think they're seeing her for the last time, no one seems to have noticed. I mean, it's a precinct full of tough guys, but not one person has even wished her good luck, bon voyage, sayonara or whatever. I heard they had a party for her already. I guess that counts for something… but still. You'd think if you were seeing someone who you'd worked with for years for the last time, you'd say goodbye. Maybe it's just me? Damn, I dunno… Maybe they know something about her that I don't. Or maybe that says a lot about her – the fact that no one seems like they're gonna miss her. That's pretty sad.

So she wanted me to ride all the way back to the station with her only to get another car and come all the way back out here. Seriously? She can't just hang out for a second? I can investigate it without her, she can just stand and watch me work, observe my _skills, _but she don't gotta waste my time. I mean, she's a detective…she should be looking for clues or something! Whatever, she'll be outta here soon. Not gonna let her get under my skin.

_Linden_

I seriously can't believe Oakes put me on the rotation on my last day. _My last day_! I mean, I guess someone has to babysit Holder. He's right about that, though, the guy is beyond clueless! It's interesting to see what his version of "working a scene" looks like. He doesn't seem like a guy that has much in the way of finesse or people skills or whatever you wanna call it. This job requires a lot of it, since so many people will only give you information if you look like a person they can relate to. That they can trust. It's hard to feel much confidence in someone who looks like he should be a game show host or a used car salesman.

I just want to get out of here and on the plane. I didn't want to start investigating this case. I know myself, and I don't want to get sucked in. I promised myself, and Rick, that I wouldn't do that again. And I know that I have a tendency to get too involved in my cases. To care _too much. _I can't seem to help it, it's just what I'm good at. It's better if I just walk away before the wheels in my head start turning. So of course, Holder wants to hang out and interview people. Figures. But whatever, it's not my problem, and after today I never have to deal with any of it again.

Except… I'm already curious. It doesn't take much. It's taking everything in me to keep insisting we go back to the station… I'm sure if I stayed a few days I could show Holder how it's all done… maybe even close the case… No! I'm not going there.

What was it Holder said to me earlier? _Is that why you're running away Linden, because you don't know no more?_ Fuck him! That just proves that he doesn't know me! I'm not running from something, I'm going _towards_ something… something really positive. I am _NOT_ running away. I've done a lot of that in my life, but not this time.

It'll be nice to have some peace and quiet in Sonoma. Away from all of this death and darkness.

…

The mood of the day had changed significantly from the "maybe this is something, maybe it's not" atmosphere at Discovery Park. After interviewing Mitch Larsen, and discovering that Mitch and Stan's teenage daughter hadn't been seen since Friday night, it was as though what had seemed like two possibly insignificant items found in the park might actually be part of a much larger, much more serious puzzle.

There was still no body, but it was looking more and more like there _was_ a case, and that there _would _be a body sooner or later. Sarah Linden felt the familiar twinge, the one she always got when the wheels were turning at the beginning of a new case, her mind moving a million miles a second. Of course, a case like this was horrible. But solving these cases, this was what she was good at. The problem, of course, was that this was her last day, and a case like this was _not_ going to be wrapped up by six o'clock. Still, that wasn't her problem. She repeated this over and over to herself in order to try to kill the familiar feeling, almost a high, that starting a new case always gave her.

Holder, while of course not glad that something terrible appeared to have happened to a seventeen year old girl, was glad for the opportunity that a "real case" would provide him. Unlike for Rosie Larsen, for him, this counted as being in the right place at the right time. He sure would be glad when Linden was gone, and he could be the lead on the case though. She was definitely bossy. Good instincts, but bossy nonetheless. That icy look, the one that said "Just get out of my way and let the grown-ups do our work," that she kept giving him wasn't helping him either.

The ride from the Larsens' to Ft. Washington High School, where Rosie was a senior, and where they were headed to continue the investigation, was a tense one. Linden drove, staring straight ahead, and offering nothing in the way of small talk. Holder attempted to engage her, knowing that this was probably a futile attempt, but he had never been one to back down from a challenge. He liked to think he had a way with people.

"So, what you think so far? What's the famous Linden gut-instinct telling you?" Holder asked her, only partially sarcastically.

"I think this case is going to be a big one. I think that it's going to be too much for your first Homicide case. And I think that when I'm gone, they're going to pass this one on to someone with more experience," she replied dryly, glaring at him out of the corner of her eyes as she drove. Even though she hadn't fully looked at him, he could feel that icy stare again. He could've been wrong, but it almost looked like she'd _enjoyed_ saying that to him.

Holder sucked in a long breath before replying. He watched her with a mixture of surprise and skepticism. _How likely __**was**__ that to happen, anyway? Did she actually mean all that, or was she just being nasty? _ "Damn Linden, don't hold back or nothing, tell me how you _really_ feel."

They rode the rest of the way to the school in silence.


	3. The High School

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 1

DAY 1

At Ft. Washington High School, Linden and Holder have just finished interviewing Bennett Ahmed, one of Rosie's teachers and one of the last people to have seen her alive, for the first time. They've done the good cop/bad cop thing exceptionally well, Holder being extra confrontational and Linden being uncharacteristically warm and friendly. Still, Bennett hadn't admitted to anything.

"Call if you think of anything else," Linden tells him. He doesn't respond, just walks away. Linden's warm demeanor hadn't made up for Holder asking him if he'd "hit that," in reference to Rosie Larsen.

Linden and Holder look at each other after Bennett disappears down the hall, but they don't say a word. The look isn't quite friendly, not quite unfriendly. Maybe equal parts frustrated and skeptical. They seem to have reached some sort of understanding, which counts as progress.

Just then, Linden's phone rings. The call is from Jack's school, but all they say is that they need her to come in. As usual, her face reveals nothing, so Holder is surprised when she starts walking towards the front door, just ahead of them and down a small flight of stairs.

"Put a car on Sterling's house," she tells Holder.

"Where you going?"  
>"And get a K-9 unit out of the park. I'll meet you there."<p>

"You my _ride_, Linden."

Linden walks calmly down the stairs and out the door.

_Holder_

I can't believe this… Seriously, she's doing it again? This time just leaving me behind, _here's your assignment, see ya later? Find yourself a car, kid._ Damn! What the hell is with her? I can't help but think that Linden doesn't understand what it means to be someone's ride. OK she's lead on this case but… really? I assume there was a reason they told me to ride with her, but it's hard to tell what the reason was… I can't get much out of it if I'm not actually riding with her! Is this how she usually acts, or is this a special "_It's my last day so I'll just act however I want to_" thing?

Whatever… I can deal with her and her attitude for a few more hours. Six o'clock can't come soon enough though.

_Linden_

_Damn, what has Jack done now? Can't we just get through the last day here and be done with it?_

"_You my ride, Linden_," he keeps saying. I don't have time to babysit him! I mean, I gave him a ride – what does he want from me? He's gonna be lead on this case, unless they pull him and give it to someone else, so he needs to stop thinking and acting like a uni and start thinking and acting like a detective.

OK, maybe I've been a _little_ rough on him today, but it's a tough job. He might as well get used to it. And I have more important things to think about than whether I'm hurting his feelings.

…

Linden had picked up Jack – his school has called because he'd been caught smoking – and dropped him off at Reggie's, then gotten back to the park. Holder was already there with a variety of other officers, mainly in uniform. He was standing and talking with a few of them by their makeshift command center – a cluster of police cars on the side of the road.

He looked up as she approached. "Anything new?" she asked him, straight to the point.

"Not yet." He replied in the same dry tone. Then he added, "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, fine." Holder held her gaze, looking at her skeptically. She looked away, but still it burned into her. "Jack got caught smoking at school," she finally admitted.

"You want me to have a talk with him about smoking?" he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. It wasn't clear whether he was serious or not.

Linden smirked at him. _Was he kidding? Him, of all people?_ "You can't even say that with a straight face!" She shook her head in disbelief. "I'm not sure that speech would mean much coming from someone who smokes as much as you."

"Maybe, maybe not, but I'm good with kids. Just saying, the offer's there." She watched him for a minute, trying to decide whether he was actually meant it, or if he was telling some sort of deadpan joke. She couldn't decide.

"Come on, we have work to do," she reminded him. _When in doubt, change the subject back to work. _She picked up a folded map from the hood of one of the patrol cars and walked a little ways from the noise of the crowd to orient herself and try to figure out her next move. Holder was pacing now, impatient as usual.

He was ready for action, drama, _something _to _happen_… which was a good thing, because drama always seemed to follow Linden, as he would soon learn firsthand.


	4. Good Luck

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **season 1, episode 2

DAY 2

Linden and Holder are back at the high school, having now questioned the students. No one seems to know anything about what happened to Rosie on the night of the dance. None of the students even wants to admit to_ seeing_ Rosie that night. Linden and Holder believe _someone_ saw her, but these teenagers don't seem to want to talk.

"Ready? I gotta pick up Jack." Linden saw no point in hanging around any longer. She was supposedly leaving tonight – AGAIN.

"I think I'm gonna stay for a while. Do some digging."

"Into what? We got nothing from those kids."

"Yeah well, you know, it ain't your case no more, so… but you know, don't you worry Linden, I'll get a ride."

"Oh, I won't. Good luck."

"Yeah, and uh, good luck in San Diego. And tell Little Man I said… you know." Holder demonstrates his signature salute.

"Yeah, definitely." Linden turns and walks down the hall and out of the school.

Holder turns towards the group of teenage female athletes sitting in the hall, who are watching him adoringly.

_Holder_

I know there's a way to get these kids to talk… Someone knows something. It's all about how you approach it, and I'm good with kids. I can get em to talk to me, cause I'm relaxed, more chill than most adults. You wouldn't see any of these kids opening up to Linden. She's _way_ too intense. Those girls that are staring at me? I can use that to my advantage. Just gotta find the right ones and the right situation.

What Oakes did last night – telling Linden that she was staying for another 24 hours – that was fucked up. I mean I know I'm the rookie in the department but damn! Not like I just graduated from the academy. It's gonna feel good to have this case to myself…assuming that I _ever _get to be lead. Oakes _wouldn't_ keep stringing Linden along til she solves it (_would he?_)… at least I sure hope not!

Course, at the same time, I really hope I don't fuck it up. That has been my specialty in the past, so I'm gonna have to play this one right. I think my first "in" is those teenage girls. They're watching me with those googly eyes that teenage girls always get. Not gonna do nothing for real, _of course_, just use the fact that I already know they're watching me. It's kinda creepy, knowing that they're thinking about me like that, but I guess I can't blame em… I _am _irresistible, after all.

_Linden_

It's funny, though I don't like him, I almost saw myself in Holder for a second there. If I weren't on my way out of town and off this case, I'd be the one sticking around to _do some digging_. I'm glad to see that he at least has the motivation to follow through… I'm almost jealous of him, in some weird way. It's not like me – it's always been pretty much _impossible _for me - to distance myself from a case. On just about every case I've worked, I've been way _too_ involved. No matter how I tell myself I won't do it again, somehow it's just the way I work. I can't seem to do it half way, just all or nothing… even when the _all_ manages to destroy my life.

But I _can't_ get personally involved in this one. I know there's more to it, and I'm sure that given more time, and more "digging," I could find out what's behind it all. But Jack is my priority. And getting out of Seattle. Rick. The wedding. I'm sure Holder will be fine…. OK, I'm not sure, but he may be a _little _brighter than I'd originally thought. And it's his problem, not mine. I'm leaving it behind… It's for the best.

And yet, I'm pretty sure I could solve this case. It's always just a matter of finding the connections. The kids here don't wanna talk, but someone knows something. Teenagers never want to be the one to talk in front of their friends, in front of the other kids who'll judge them, but if they weren't all in those big groups we had them in, I'll bet one of them would be willing to say something. Yeah, if I wasn't leaving tonight, I know I could solve it.

…

Linden had been in the station when she'd heard the call come in about The Cage over the radio. She'd just finished telling Oakes that she couldn't stay any longer, telling Jack that they were _not_ sticking around for him to be able to go to Nash's party. Suddenly, just as she'd been about to leave the building, what had been a quiet evening in the halls of the precinct had morphed into a night abuzz with the sounds of officers getting ready, radios crackling, techs springing out of doorways and moving as a group toward their squad cars. She'd been _so close_ to getting out. AGAIN.

The few details available about the scene that had been found at the high school were pretty horrific. From the bits and pieces that Linden had overheard, she knew that a secret dungeon of some sort had been found, and that there was a lot of blood involved. She had quickly made a few calls to change the plan for the night – yes, she had had to tell Jack that they weren't leaving, _again_, and make arrangements for him to stay at Reggie's, _again_. She could hear the lack of surprise, the resignation, in Reggie's voice. She was thankful that Reggie hadn't had anything smart to say about her latest "delay," because Sarah didn't have the energy to fight with her about it.

There didn't seem to be a rational explanation for why she has still here in Seattle. Something kept holding her down when she tried to free herself… the case had pulled her in, despite her best efforts to remain aloof and detached. She wondered half-heartedly if she would be able to leave before it was solved, no matter how much she told herself that she would.

As she parked her car outside the school for the second time that day, she noted the difference from what the scene had been earlier. This time there were no civilian cars lining the parking lot. Despite the lateness of the hour, the night was illuminated by what appeared to be a fleet of squad cards, marked and unmarked, with lights flashing. It would have been clear that something major was going on, even if she'd been a casual passerby.

She braced herself for more questions as she parked her car and ducked under the Crime Scene tape, walking the short distance to the front door. From there, the unis pointed the way to the basement as if they had been expecting her all along. It surprised her that no one looked the least bit surprised to see her there. Maybe they hadn't known she had planned to leave that night, or maybe they hadn't actually ever believed that she would.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Holder in deep discussion with Oakes, whose back was to her. She stopped where she was, surveying the scene. It was truly gruesome. It was unclear exactly what had happened there, but her first instinct was that it had been something horrible. Yet this wasn't the time to jump to any conclusions, as she knew well from experience. This was the time to gather as many facts as possible, and to find the connections.

Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to decide where in the chaos to begin her analysis, and finally they came to rest on Holder. He had finished his discussion with Oakes, who had crossed the room to be briefed by one of the techs. She slowly approached the spot where Holder was standing, and though he wasn't looking directly at her, her saw her approaching in his peripheral vision. Holder managed to look completely unsurprised to see her there, despite their having said their "final" goodbyes a few hours earlier. She knew which verbal jabs she was likely to be in for, knew what he was eventually going to say, without him having said a word. But it was time to get up to speed and figure this thing out. Whether or not Holder was going to give her a hard time was irrelevant.

"Missed your plane? Again?" Holder asked.

"What is this place?" _When in doubt, change the subject back to work._


	5. Assumptions of Your Enemy

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **season 1, episodes 2 and 3

DAY 2, evening

Linden and Holder are approaching the apartment where Lyndon Johnson Rosales, the janitor at Ft. Washington High School, lives with the woman who seems to be his mother.

"So how long you staying this time? You, like, the LT's pet?" Holder was starting to wonder if Linden was actually going to leave at all.

"Maybe he just wants the case cleared."

"Maybe I didn't just find the crime scene."

"Assumptions of your enemy, detective. I'm lead on this for the next few days, so stop pressing everyone we question like they're in a box. Let go of the idea that you have some BS detector."

"And how do you know I don't have one of those?"

"Cause you dress like Justin Bieber and eat pork rinds for dinner."

"Ooooooohhhhh! Me and your kid got the same diet, Linden."

_Holder_

If I didn't know better, I'd think that Linden was warming up to me a little. I'm getting fewer icy stares and more looks of just plain contempt… but every once in a while I get half a smile, out of nowhere… usually after one of my very witty one liners. My charm is finally getting through that thick outer shell of hers. It's a nice change. I mean, she's still giving orders and insisting on driving, but it's an improvement. Because apparently we gotta spend all day, every day together until she decides to actually leave – _if_ she decides to leave – so if we can at least get along, that's better.

From what I've seen, I don't think she actually wants to go to Sonoma. It's like she's getting into the zone with this case, and the deeper in she gets, the more she realizes it too. And here I thought she was gonna be able to just walk away from it all. Nope, she's more like me than I thought. We're both sucked into this one now. I don't think she's actually leaving… just a feeling. That fiancé? Seems like the job comes before everything and everyone else. Poor guy. He probably hasn't realized it yet. But what the hell do I know? I met her what? 2 days ago?

I guess I kinda get why they stuck me with her, after all – besides that I'm supposed to be _replacing her_, of course. Cause she can be kinda unpleasant, but damn, she's good at her job.

_Linden_

I _knew _Holder was going to give me a hard time about the fact that I didn't leave, _again_. He acts like I'm enjoying this. Oakes is _forcing_ me to stay! So far he's alternated between insisting that I stay, and guilting me into staying… although technically I guess last night was on me. But that call came in about The Cage just as I was about to leave… How could I walk away from that? _How?_ I couldn't, of course.

Dammit, it's exactly what I knew would happen. _Why_ did Oakes have to make me start this case? I wonder if he knew this would happen, knew that he could get one more case out of me. I need to leave it alone. Walk away. Right now. For my own sanity. Before I ruin what I have. I mean, I _know_ where I'm headed… though I tell myself that I won't go there again, who am I kidding? I know that I need to stop… but I can't.

If I'm honest with myself, I need it. And I know that this life isn't good for me, not healthy. When you care more about work than you do about yourself or any _living_ people in your life… that's the sign of a problem, right?

Nope, I'm here through the weekend, and then I'm gone. No matter what. No matter how much we've dug up in the case. No matter what Oakes says. No matter what I _think_ I need.

No matter what.

…

DAY 3

Oakes had just disrespected Holder, _again_. Or at least that's the way Holder saw it. Actually, it had been both Oakes and Linden. Oakes told Linden to tell the Larsens their daughter's cause of death. Holder had volunteered to do it – he thought that would be helpful, since that kind of news isn't exactly what a parent wants to hear. But did they want him to do it? No, of course not. Linden had shut him down immediately. "No, _I'll_ do it," she had insisted. Oakes hadn't even bothered to _respond_ to his offer.

Holder wondered what Linden's problem was, why she was being such a micro manager. He wondered if she _still_ thought he was that incompetent. Sure she hadn't known him long, but after the past few _long _days they'd had, they'd at least worked together enough for her to see that he wasn't a rookie.

After they had reviewed the video from the dance again and realized that Chris had actually been behind the devil mask – "El diablo," as the janitor had called him, just before they had been booted out of the hospital room – Linden sat and stared at the frame of the video where they'd paused it. Like she was in some kind of trance. She was probably deep in thought about something, making a connection that hadn't occurred to anyone else yet. Her wheels turned in a particular way that Holder was already starting to recognize.

But Holder was pissed, and he wasn't content to wait it out. He'd been stewing for five minutes already, while she sat there processing whatever it was that was working itself out in her head, and he was just getting angrier. "Yo, Linden," he said loudly from the chair at his desk, just across from hers, where he'd been sitting and watching her stare at the monitor. Linden glanced up, looking as if she really _had_ just woken up from a trance.

"Huh? What?" she replied, clearly only half listening to whatever he was about to say.

"What's your problem, huh?" If he sounded confrontational, it was because that's how he was feeling. Holder was determined to get right to the point. None of this beat around the bush bullshit.

"_What_ are you talking about?" _What was __**his**__ problem,_ Linden wondered.

"What's your problem with me? Why are you determined to do everything yourself? You really think I'm _that_ incompetent?" Holder wasn't sure he wanted the answer to that last part. He almost regretted asking. No one likes being told flat out that they're incompetent, but she seemed like the type that appreciated directness.

Linden was now focused on him. Despite his angry tone, she looked at him calmly, albeit with a puzzled look on her face. "What's this about, Holder?"

Holder tried to make his next sentence come out one notch less angrily than the previous one, knowing he was working himself up. "The Larsens. Cause of death. You insisting on telling them yourself… like you do with _everything else_ in this case."

Linden's face changed from puzzled to impatient. "Oh, that?" She sighed, signaling that she felt that explanation should be unnecessary. "No, I don't think you're incompetent, but I've noticed that your way of dealing with people can be…" she paused, searching for the right word, "abrasive. And that works fine in certain situations, but there are other times, like when a family has, say, _lost their child_, when it's appropriate to be a little more _sympathetic_."

_OK,_ thought Holder, _fair enough. _He didn't like what she was saying, and he wasn't sure he agreed with her – _wasn't he a sympathetic enough guy when he needed to be? _– but at least it was a reason besides just that she found him incompetent. He looked at Linden while he processed this information, and gradually the menacing look on his face softened. "Yo, I can do sympathetic. _For real,_" he insisted.

Linden looked skeptical, but at least she wasn't _laughing_. "You think?" She seemed to consider this for a minute. "Maybe you just need more practice," she finally concluded evenly.

"Teach me, oh wise one…" Holder responded with exaggerated humility, putting his hands in the air and then laying them down on the desk, as if bowing before her.

"Ha ha," said Linden, half smiling and half squeezing her lips sideways into a grimace and raising one eyebrow, as she sometimes did when she was amused. She got up from her chair and put on her coat slowly. "I'm going to see the Larsens. See you later."

"Yeah, see you later. I'll see if I can find the Echols kid, and see what he knows. I'll be in touch." Holder stood to leave as well.

"OK," Linden gave him a half smile, this time _without_ making a face. Holder saluted, as he did from time to time, and Linden disappeared through the door.

_What an unexpected team we are_, thought Holder as he closed the door behind him.


	6. Partnership

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 4

DAY 4

Linden and Holder are walking back to the car after talking to Rosie's best friend, Sterling, at the high school. As usual, the rain is coming down in buckets. They don't even seem to notice.

"If Rosie was having an affair it might explain the shoes. That key didn't fit her school locker, right?" Linden asks.  
>"No. Maybe she had some secret lockbox or something where she stashed the guy's love letters and stuff."<p>

"Where? We already checked her bedroom."

"I'll talk to the Larsens," Holder offers, knowing what Linden is going to say.  
>"I'll do it. I'm meeting them at the station."<p>

"Of course you are. I love this partnership. You do whatever you want, and I spend my time chasing you down." It's not one of those times when he can keep his frustration with her to himself.  
>"Is there a problem?" They exchange a hostile look at each other from either side of the car, where they are standing, about to get in. They hold each other's gaze for a minute, then both look away without further comment. It's a truce, though an uneasy one.<p>

Linden continues. "Rosie was sneaking out during school, taking the bus, maybe meeting someone."

"Yeah, so?"  
>"The 108 doesn't hit her neighborhood from here. From Ft. Washington. Find out where she went."<p>

_Holder_

Just when I think I'm gaining a little of Linden's respect… well, there it is. Clearly I'm not. Why do I bother to try to have ideas, anyway, if she's just gonna treat me like her lapdog? Damn, but Linden is infuriating! _Find out where she went, Holder. __**I'm**__ gonna talk to the Larsens, Holder. _It is _not _looking like I'm gonna be lead on this case at all, because she ain't gonna be leaving. **She** may not know it yet, but I'm pretty sure. We're way more alike that I'd thought, and in this case, it sucks.

There's more to this case that we're not seeing. There has to be. This Rosie girl had some serious secrets, even for a teenager. Where would a teenager have gotten those shoes? Where would she even wear them? The Larsens don't strike me as parents who'd just let their daughter go out dressed that way. Especially the mother. Not that teenagers don't sneak around or nothing, but… it's not adding up. Luckily, I'm about as stubborn as they come, and I don't plan to give up anytime soon.

_Linden_

Holder gets mad over the silliest things. I mean, really! Why is he so dead set on talking to the Larsens? Who cares who talks to them? Besides, he _really_ doesn't know when to stop pushing. And they are not the people who we need to be pushing right now. They're not suspects, they're obviously in pain, and upsetting them isn't going to help us.

He just needs to calm down and let me be the lead on the case for a few more days, then I'll be out of his way, because I'm definitely not sticking around past the weekend. There's no _way _Oakes is talking me into staying past that.

…

"The 108 doesn't hit her neighborhood from here. From Ft. Washington. Find out where she went."

Holder stood there, in the pouring rain, almost (but not quite) in disbelief, just staring at Linden for at least five _long_ seconds before blurting out, "And where you going in the mean time?" He didn't just ask, he almost demanded it. He realized that the words had come out a little more aggressively than he'd meant them to, but he didn't care. He was pretty sure, however, that Linden was gonna pull rank again any second, so he added, "Cause, you know, since we're working together at the moment it might be nice to let things flow _both _ways on the information superhighway."

Linden rolled her eyes at him. "You mean _besides_ meeting the Larsens back at the station? I told you that already." She paused, looking as though she was having an internal debate with herself. "After that, if you really want to know, I need to pick up Jack. Get him some dinner. Maybe even sleep for a few hours."

Holder nodded slowly, feeling silly for his outburst. She _had _said she was going to meet with the Larsens, though she hadn't said when. _Of course it was reasonable that she'd be picking up Jack. It was almost of the end of the day_, he reminded himself_. _He'd just assumed that she was going to work through the night… though it wouldn't have surprised him if she had. She'd done it a few times already since he'd known her. _I need to stop letting her get under my skin, _he thought to himself. He decided to try to play it off. No sense getting her mad unnecessarily.

"What? Now I know you're making shit up! Cause you definitely do _not_ sleep, at least not voluntarily." Holder had his anger issues, but he wasn't trying to provoke Linden if he could help it. Whatever anyone wanted to believe about him, he tried to be a decent enough guy.

She looked him straight in the eyes and replied, "Maybe I just know better than to sleep when you're anywhere nearby. For my own safety." Linden didn't even crack a smile. Still, he was just gonna assume it was a joke. She seemed like the type who'd be big on deadpan humor… and besides, he chose to believe that she liked him more than she was letting on.

"Oh snap! Linden's telling jokes!" Holder almost howled with laughter.

There it was – that little half smile. So far he hadn't seen that smile directed at anyone but him, which he attributed to his charm, of course. "Go on, get outta here!" he told her with a smirk, as she started getting into the car. "I've got a bus to catch."


	7. Twenty Questions

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 5

DAY 5

Linden is waiting for Holder by the car, outside Ft. Washington high school. Holder saunters over. He is returning from the coffee shop across the street, carrying one coffee in each hand and a paper bag in his mouth.

"Take your time," says Linden sarcastically. She takes the bag and one of the coffees. "Thanks," she adds.

Holder is all business. He's already been brainstorming during the coffee run. "So, Friday night, Ahmed gets the wife out of the house, brings Rosie over to get it on. Then, bam, something goes wrong, and the brother's taking a moonlit drive to Discovery Park."

"Cancels the flooring company so he can clean up before the wife gets home," Linden continues. However they get along or don't, they're on the same page with the case.

They start walking toward the school.

"I'd bet on it, if I was the gambling type." _Interesting choice of words he made there,_ Linden thinks.

"You're not? Pretty nice you made score back there."

"What is this, twenty questions? It's like a first date. Are you checking me out, Linden? "

"There's plenty of women with poor judgment out there, I'm sure you'll get lucky." _There it is again, that _

_deadpan humor_, he thinks. _She__** must**__ be joking… right?_

"Not now. I'm, uh, celibate," he responds. _HA! Bet she wasn't expecting __**that**__ answer._

"Celibate as in no sex?" _She has to admit, she didn't see that coming…_

"That's what it means, don't it? Six months now." _Anything else you'd like to know, Linden? he thought. _

They're walking up the steps of the school, and Linden turns to look at him as she climbs.

"Personal reasons," he continues without prompting.

"That's _nice_." _Sarcasm?_ he wonders. _It's hard to tell with her._

"It's not the usual convo on a first date, but there's just something about you, Linden, just makes me wanna open up. We moving on to my diet and exercise next?" He's rewarded for his humor with the tiniest hint of a smile.

They enter the school, and it's back to business.

_Holder_

Well, well, well… Linden's awfully interested in my life… I mean I get it, we're cops. It's part of the job to check people out, pick up on things, observe and whatnot... And yeah, that was a lot of money that she saw me with… I'd probably have been curious in her situation, too. But something tells me it's more than that. She's surprised. Intrigued, even. That's me, a mystery wrapped in a conundrum. I bet she's used to having people all figured out. If she can figure me out, more power to her.

Really, as weird as it may be, it wasn't a big deal to tell her that stuff. Can't think of anyone else I'd have told it all to… but for some reason, she's easy to talk to. I mean, really, who's she gonna tell? She's the kind of person you have to really work to extract information from, after all.

She's not easy to get along with, for sure, but she's not so bad. I'm pretty sure she likes my jokes, even if she won't admit it. It's almost like a challenge to get her to smile even the tiniest bit… and I _love_ me a challenge! She's _almost_ growing on me, as crazy as that sounds. She wouldn't even be the worst person to be stuck with as a partner – which is an actual possibility, since I'm betting that she's gonna end up sticking around… Wish I could put money on _that_ one, cause I'd need a much bigger envelope to hold all the money I'd win.

_Linden_

Holder really flatters himself. He didn't really think I wouldn't ask about that big envelope of money he was showing off, did he? That's what they invented banks for, so people didn't have to walk around with all that cash!

The question is, do I take him at his word about that whole Blackjack thing? I've known him all of five days. There are people that I've known for five _years _and I still don't trust them – come to think of it, I don't think I'd say I can trust _anyone_ I've known for five years – or most people who I've known longer than that, either. That's probably the right response in this situation as well… And OK, so far he's been straight with me – at least he has _as far as I know,_ that is. Really, it could all be lies… it definitely wouldn't be the first time.

But for some strange reason, something about him that makes me want to trust him - which is probably a big mistake. I've made _that _mistake too many times before. Which probably means I shouldn't tell him a thing, and not believe anything he says either. Why am I even having this conversation with myself? Really, I should know better than to trust anyone by now.

Not that it matters, because I'm leaving tomorrow night. And getting married in a few weeks. Three weeks, I think? Oh boy, is it bad if I've lost track…? **That** is what I want for my life. To be in Sonoma with Rick and Jack. Security. Stability. I _don't_ want to chase after murderers for the rest of my life, to work all night and day and lose myself. I've already done that once, and I'm lucky that I have another chance.

So what do I care what Holder's up to? _I don't._ It doesn't matter. He hasn't been as unpleasant to work with as I thought he'd be - he's smarter than he comes across at first, even if he's a pain in the ass – which he definitely is. And boy, does he think he's hilarious! What an ego.

But none of it matters – the good stuff, the bad stuff, what I think of him… none of it.

Because I have Rick. Because I'm moving to Sonoma. Because I'm walking away. Really. I am.

Tomorrow night.

…

It was late as Linden and Holder arrived back in what had once been her office, the office that they now shared until further notice. Linden shed her jacket, setting it on the chair beside her desk as they entered. Holder was still wearing his jacket, still standing, pacing slowly around the room.

"You got somewhere to be?" Linden's tone could be described as icy. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that tone, not by a long shot.

"Don't _you_?" he shot back. "Starts with an S, ends with an A… So-_no-_ma?"

Linden's gaze followed him for a minute before returning her attention to the case files in front of her. Without looking up again, she said "Don't worry, I'll be there soon. Jack and I leave tomorrow night. You can alert the press."

"So you think you're really leaving this time? Or you just practicing? Just trying to get our hopes up…"

"Very funny," Linden replied. She didn't look amused. _I knew this was coming, _she thought. _Let's get it over with._

"Cause you know, it's cool, if you changed your mind you can just say so. I know what a pleasure it is to work with me." Holder sat down at his desk, directing his boyish grin straight at her. _What's he so happy about? _she wondered. He reminded her of a puppy… in a lovable but very annoying way.

"Don't flatter yourself, Holder. Besides, who said it _was_ a pleasure?" _Oh snap, Linden!_ he thought. _Deadpan humor strikes again. It seems to be her specialty._

But still no smile. He was close though, he could feel it. _OK Linden, is that how you wanna be? he thought. _"What's wrong with being in a good mood? You should try it, you might like it… once you understand that that's what's happening to you. New experience and all."

_Holder's enjoying this way too much, _thought Linden. Why does he care what mood I'm in, anyway? "Hilarious, Holder. And who made you the expert on happiness?"

"Oh, I ain't claiming to be no expert or nothing. Just got myself a positive outlook… or I try to anyway. Some days it works better than others. It's all about how you deal with things. Life's too short and all that crap, you know?"

"Eloquently put. I've never heard that version before," Linden replied, the corners of her mouth turning up almost imperceptibly.

And there it was. The hint of a smile. Just a little one… but it was there. Why did it feel like such an accomplishment? _Damn, but she's a pain in the ass_, he thought.

"Come on, Linden, you know you're my BFF!"

"Shut up, Holder." _Was that an actual smile on her face this time?_

Holder starting moving slowly towards the door. "Alright, Linden, it's the middle of the night. I'm going home to sleep for a few hours, and you should too. For once, _you_ should listen to one of _my _ideas. The dead will still be dead tomorrow."

"You're even more hilarious late at night, you know that?" she asked evenly. It _was_ pretty late, and she _was _tired. But she had work to finish up if she wanted to leave tomorrow night. Which she did. Which she _would._

"This is what I've been trying to tell you all along!" Holder stood in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, grinning.

"Shut up, Holder." _He was a pain in the ass alright, but he was an OK guy._

"You coming or what?" He leaned his head against the doorframe and stifled a yawn.

"I'm leaving tomorrow night, I need to keep working." She stifled a yawn of her own.

"Suit yourself, Linden. Hasta manana."


	8. A Going Away Present

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 6

DAY 6

Linden is standing by the car, parked on the street outside Bennett Ahmed's apartment. She's holding flyers with pictures of Rosie Larsen on them that she has just taken out of the car. Holder approaches, carrying only one cup of coffee this time.

"Thanks! I hate it when somebody brings me coffee."

"Don't be like that. I got you a going away present. But I'm saving it for when you, you know, actually _go away_." Looking very satisfied with his witty comeback, Holder leans against the car, drinking his coffee and smoking his cigarette. Linden ignores him, turns and begins walking slowly toward the apartments in front of them.

"We'll canvas this block. Maybe we get lucky, find somebody who saw her. I'm starting with Ahmed's neighbor. The other side of the street's yours."

"Hey, give me a second. The first one of the day, it always tastes the _best_." Holder's not in a hurry, and that alone is annoying Linden, still not even a minute after he arrived.

"After I leave and they give the case to someone else, and you're working Traffic, you can smoke all day," she tells him without looking back. She's already approaching the Ahmeds' neighbor's door.

_Holder _

Damn, Linden! Bite my head off, why don't you?

Maybe I should've brought her a coffee as a peace offering… I didn't realize I'd be needing one! She's even bitchier than usual this morning… so that means today'll be extra fun. Maybe she's pissy because it's supposed to be her last day here – if you believe _her_… which I _don't._

Don't know why Linden's in such a hurry to knock on doors today. She's always in too much for a hurry when it comes to work. Too much of a hurry to eat, even! OK, yeah, there's work to be done, but will those two minutes literally make or break the day? I mean, she's in a hurry to do everything….

Except, apparently, to _LEAVE_.

That life in Sonoma must be really, really good, cause clearly she's pumped to get there. Or not.

Whatever. If I've learned one thing in the past 6 days, it's that her bark is worse than her bite. That, and that she likes my jokes… though I should probably hold off on those til later today. No sense risking injury unnecessarily.

Alright, time to work my magic on the neighbors.

_Linden_

Holder's still _really_ enjoying the whole "you're still here" thing. Annoyingly so. OK, I guess maybe I've set myself up for it. I have missed _a few _planes in the past week. I couldn't just leave when… I mean, I guess I _could _have left… or is it that I _should have been able to_ leave? It wasn't all my fault. Oakes has forced me to stay more than once… but yeah, he didn't make me stay _every_ time… and really, what would he have done if I had refused to stay, if I had just left? Had me arrested?

Face it, Sarah, deep down you're already invested in this case. The very thing that you promised yourself from day one was _not_ going to happen. It's going to be painful to leave tonight, and you need to be ready for that. But you're going to do it… don't even let yourself doubt that, or it's all over.

Then there's Holder, who acts like we have all day to hang out, and that nothing needs to be accomplished. This is my _last day_ on this case! I don't have time to sit around smoking and drinking coffee! I know I won't solve it – _as much as that kills me_ - but I _would_ like to tie things up as much as I can. Who knows what'll happen after I leave. I really wonder who'll end up working it, and if Holder'll be on it at all. He may have surpassed my first impression of him, but I'm not sure he could handle being lead on this one. Luckily, though, it won't be up to me. And I won't have to be here to see what happens. I won't be here…

…to know if they solve it.

Shit.

Nope, I'm leaving. I. Am. Leaving. Tonight.

…

"Mrs. Ahmed, open the door! Open the door right now!" called Linden and Holder, over and over again. They pounded on the door and shouted for what seemed like an eternity, but Amber Ahmed was nowhere to be seen. At least one of the Ahmeds' neighbors peered at them through the glass of _her _door. Finally, they gave up pounding and calling. Apparently no one was home, or so it seemed. It was time to think about their next move.

The evening was cool and clear, for once. They walked slowly back towards the car, parked at the curb in front of the apartment building. Holder had lit a cigarette before they got there, despite the short distance.

"So, what now, boss?" he asked casually. The day was almost over, and though he didn't believe deep down that Linden would be leaving that night, the idea that he could be in charge of this investigation if she _did _leave was quite attractive…

Linden shot him a look that he knew by now meant somewhere between a sarcastic _Very funny _and _Shut Up, Holder_, depending on the context.

"So, we know they're not home. Unless of course they're in there hiding out. Any idea where Bennett might be right now?" asked Holder, leaning back against the car. "Cause it looks like it's time to talk to him, _again_."

"I saw him this morning at the funeral. The Larsens had been setting up tables in their garage before that, probably for company afterwards… a wake, I guess? So he may be at the Larsens.'"

Something was gnawing at Holder about that. He hoped that Bennett was somewhere else, but Linden was probably right. It made sense that he'd be there.

"Does Stan Larsen know that we're investigating Bennett?" Holder wondered out loud.

"I'm not sure… _We_ didn't tell him, but he could have heard it from someone else…" She paused, knowing how easily something like that could have leaked during such a public investigation. She'd seen many more important details leaked in investigations that were much more closely guarded. "Before we jump to conclusions, let's head over there and see for ourselves. And I'm going to call about a warrant for the Ahmeds' place." Linden flipped open her phone as she opened the car door and got in. Holder was in the passenger seat before she had closed hers.

She talked as she drove, despite the fact that she didn't have a hands free phone connection. "We have a witness who saw the suspect and somebody else carrying the Larsen girl out of the building at midnight. I think the accomplice was the wife. She's not home, but we're headed out to pick up Mr. Ahmed now." Linden closed her phone and put it away. "ADA Bernstein'll call back."

Holder looked at her, suddenly remembering something. "Hey, check this. Old buddy of mine, he said Stan Larsen used to be mobbed up with the Poles. Said he might've killed some guys."

"Since when?"

"Got out of the game a long time ago. Stayed out."

"You didn't think to tell me this earlier?" _And Bennett's at Stan Larsen's house?_

"The girl look like a mob hit to you?"

"Call Bennett right now."

Linden had a _bad _feeling about this. She just hoped that she was wrong.


	9. Fear of Flying

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 7

DAY 7

Linden is in Lt. Oakes' office, discussing the search warrant for Bennett Ahmed's apartment, which has been pulled, "Mohammed" from the Mosque who apparently has a key to the Ahmeds' apartment, and Stan Larsen's history in the Polish mob. Holder walks in to see her standing there. She had failed to mention to him when they talked earlier that morning that she and Jack missed their flight the previous night, and he had thought that she was finally in California. To say that he's shocked to see her would be a big understatement.

"You _gotta_ be kidding me!" It doesn't appear to be a good surprise, judging from Holder's reaction. Actually, he looks pretty pissed off.

Oakes is consciously ignoring Holder's reaction, continuing his conversation with Linden. "You want that search warrant, get me something better than the nut job and the mob."

"Fine," she tells Oakes. Then she looks at Holder. "Come on."

"Yo, Lieutenant…" Holder is actually speechless. He thinks that the source of his confusion should be obvious, but apparently it isn't.

"What?" asks Oakes evenly.

_For real? _thinks Holder. He laughs in disbelief and starts to say something, but gives up. Apparently he's the only one who sees anything out of the ordinary happening here. He follows Linden into the hall.

"Yo, Linden… What the hell? You got fear of flying?" 

"I've got a lead," she says calmly, as if everything is normal, and Holder's being totally unreasonable. "You don't wanna come, you don't have to." She starts walking away from him, down the empty hallway.

"Hey, Linden!" At that, she turns around to face him. "You got your commitment issues, that's fine. Don't be using them to mess up my career."

This time it's Holder who walks away, and Linden who follows him.

…

_Holder_

You have got to be _fucking _kidding me! She's _here_? I mean OK she wasn't horrible to work with, but I had kinda assumed that she'd finally left for California, and that this was now _my_ case now. I mean, shit, how many times do a person have to buy a plane ticket before they actually get on the damn plane? So, what? I'm her lapdog again? _Fuck that! _

Man, I gotta get ahold of myself, before I say something I'll regret. But why can't Oakes see how fucked up this is? Why am I the _only_ one who seems to think this is anything but normal? Even for _Linden_, this is fucked up behavior!

Back when I said I didn't think she'd leave… I didn't actually _want_ to be right! I'd just gotten used to the idea that I was _wrong_ about her staying, and I'm not gonna lie, I was kinda glad she was gone. Not because of anything personal about her, just because it was gonna be good for me to be lead on the case… assuming Oakes didn't make someone else lead, of course. I guess I'm just kinda in awe about how how fucked up this whole thing is.

Deep breaths, Holder. One day – or maybe just one minute – at a time.

…

Linden and Holder are in the car, on the way to the mosque where Bennett Ahmed and his friend "Mohammed" are members, to talk to the Imam. As usual, Linden is talking on the phone and driving.

"No, Jack, you can't spend the night. You have school tomorrow. Well, that's the plan for now. OK, I'll pick you up later. Bye." Linden takes out another piece of nicotine gum.

Holder's eating what looks like, but knowing him, isn't, a hamburger. "Your old man make you quit smoking?"

"His name's Rick, and no he didn't," replies Linden dryly.

"I'll bet he ain't too happy with you, huh? How many times you stand him up now?" He pauses. "Ahhhhhh, I get it, I get it! He's one of them _understanding_ types, right?" Holder chuckles. "That explains why you don't wanna get on that plane."

"You know that thing you do, where you run your mouth off without thinking? That explains a lot too."

They drive the rest of the way in silence.

_Linden_

I know he's pissed at me for still being here, and I guess he has a right to be angry with me, but damn, that was low.

Holder says a lot of dumb shit, so I'm not sure why I'm surprised, but my relationship with Rick is really, _really_ none of his business. The fact is, Rick _isn't_ as understanding as I'm expecting him to be, as I'm asking him to be. I'm pushing my luck and I _know_ I'm doing it. So _why_ am I doing it? I wish I could answer that. All I know is I haven't been able to stop myself from getting involved in this case, and that every time I tell myself I'm leaving, I manage to find an excuse to stay.

What is it about me that makes me destroy everything good that happens to me? Why can't I just leave all this behind and go to Sonoma? _It's what I want_. Sonoma, that is. I know that I do this, that I shut out everything and everyone when I'm on a case… and yet, I still do it. _Why?_

And Rick. I'm happy with him… Do I say that a lot? I feel like I do. It's _not_ like I have to convince myself, because I don't. It may not have been something I grew up being familiar with, but this _is_ what happy feels like. I _want_ to go to Sonoma. I'm done with this life that drains me and pulls me in every direction, away from all of the good things in my life.

And yet, I'm still here.

…

Linden stopped the car in front of the mosque and turned off the engine. She sat looking straight ahead for a minute, before sighing quietly and glancing over at Holder, who'd been watching her out of the corner of his eyes since they last spoken to each other, about fifteen minutes earlier. "I'm… it's not fair to you the way things've happened in this case," she began evenly.

Holder wasn't sure she was done. He nodded at her, waiting.

"I had every intention of leaving. Not just this time. _Every time._ I was afraid that when Oakes put me on this case on my last day that I'd get sucked in again…" She blew out a slow breath. "It's my weakness, I guess. When I start a case, I have to see it through. I get so involved, I lose myself. I really didn't mean for this… I didn't mean to get in your way. Sorry." She turned her head slightly to look at him, almost mumbling the last word, but Holder heard it.

He paused, and when he did speak, his words came out just as slowly and evenly as hers had. "It's cool, Linden. That just makes us more alike than we thought… you know, besides both of us being so hard headed." He saw recognition flash in her eyes, though no trace of a smile. "And, you know, that's kinda what you have to do to go undercover, in a way – living the case – so I get it, really…" This time it was Linden who was watching _him_, her face unreadable, and nodding. "And you're not wrong, I guess there's stuff I _should_ keep to myself. Like whatever's between you and your man is none of my business… So, I'm sorry too."

"So we're good?" Linden wasn't sure why she asked this, but at that moment it was what she wanted to know. She didn't even know why she cared.

"Good? Of course we are!" Holder replied. "You know you're my BFF, Linden," He was suddenly grinning the same way he always did when he delivered his trademark one-liners. He needed to lighten the mood again, now that the heavy stuff was out of the way. He was rewarded for both his seriousness and his joke with the thing he seemed to always be trying for… the hint of a smile on his partner's face.

"Come on," she said as she opened the car door, "We've got work to do."


	10. Nothing

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 8

**Author's note**: I've been meaning to say thank you so much to **bandeapix** and **lizlovinnn** for coming over to this story with me from my first story, _Running,_ and leaving me reviews here as well! It's silly how much I enjoy and appreciate your comments, but I really, really do!

DAY 8

Linden had arrived at the police station that morning just in time to see Holder passing an envelope of something to someone through the window of a car that had pulled up to the curb in front of the precinct. That, combined with finding the FBI in her office, confiscating just about all of her Rosie Larsen files when she walked in the door had put her in a fouler mood than she'd been in for a long time… and that was really saying something!

So a little later, when Holder came in and greeted her with a "What's up Linden? How's Seattle's chilliest detective? You married yet?" she was already not amused. No, she wasn't even in the same universe as amused. Poor Holder, he didn't know what he was walking into, or that he didn't have a shot of reasoning with her that morning.

Not caring how the remark was meant, and choosing to take it as a jab, she retorted with a jab of her own. "How's your Blackjack game? Any more payouts yet?" The icy sarcasm dripped so heavily from her words, it was a wonder it didn't form a puddle on the floor. Also unfortunately for Holder, only the primary in the case was allowed into the 7:30 a.m. FBI terrorism briefing that he had shown up for, which meant that of the pair of them, only Linden was getting in.

A while Later, Holder saw Linden leave the briefing room and caught up with her in the hall, which wasn't easy because she was off like a shot. She'd been trying to get out of there without him seeing her.

"Yo, Linden! Hey, where you headed?"

"Nowhere," she said tonelessly.

"What'd they say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You were in there for like an hour…" He suddenly realized that something wasn't right, that she was shutting him out, _again_. His frustration, and the aggressiveness of his tone, both suddenly went up about three notches. "What the hell's your problem?" He was yelling now, but he didn't care.

"Why don't you make yourself useful, and stay here and do nothing?"

_Holder_

I have no idea what Linden's problem is this time… Seriously, none. Something's pissed her off, obviously, which is crazy because I thought we were good after yesterday. _Yesterday! _

She's gotta be the most infuriating person I've ever met! I don't know if she's pissed at me (and for WHAT? What'd I do _now?)_, or just pissed off, but I'm thinking I'm gonna have to wait for her to calm down at least a little before I can get to the bottom of whatever it is that has her so worked up. She's hard to talk to normally, much less when she's like this.

_Linden_

I can't believe I started to trust him. I can't believe I could be so stupid. Of course he's up to something. _**Of course he is!**_ Does it even matter what it is? I can't believe that _he'd_ be so stupid as to do whatever it was he was doing in front of the station! Not exactly discreet… but then, why should _that_ surprise me, either? This is Holder we're talking about!

This day just gets better and better! And the FBI! Asking questions about _my_ case, as if Rosie Larsen was a terrorist! _Come on!_ Why is everyone so incompetent? Why doesn't anyone else want this case _solved?_ I wish they'd all just leave me alone so I could do my goddamn job!

…

Sarah had gone to Lt. Oakes' office later that day to see if it would be possible to at least recover the shirt that she believed belonged to Rosie Larsen, which was now in FBI custody, so that it could be processed. Oakes had told her that she needed to let it go. It was now evidence in a federal case, one which took priority over hers.

But that wasn't all he needed to say to her. Holder wasn't the only one who'd noticed the way Linden had been treating her temporary partner.

"You were supposed to train Holder, but you treat him like a lapdog," said Oakes. "What's going on?"

Linden knew that he wasn't wrong. "I have some concerns about his ability to be an effective investigator." Which she did, but she also knew that her concerns hadn't warranted the extent of her behavior. However, this was no time to make such an admission.

Oakes sighed and looked at his hands. He didn't want to have to say what he was about to say. He hated that it had come to this, because Sarah Linden had always been such a keen and insightful detective. Intuitive even. "Maybe it's time to think about wrapping up here, Sarah. Heading to California."

And that was it. Oakes was no longer asking her, begging her – no, _requiring her _– to stay. He obviously didn't feel like she was helping the case anymore, and he was asking her – ordering her? – to leave. The only thing that made her angrier than the fact that he had made her stay in the first place was that he was now telling her to go. _**Now**__ he wants me to go? Now that I'm in so far I can't possibly pull myself out?_ she screamed in her head. She sat in the chair in his office, staring at him, speechless. After a minute of stunned, awkward silence she stood without a word and slowly walked out of his office.

As if on autopilot, she walked down the hall to the office that she and Holder shared. She went in, flicked on the lights, closed the door and then stood in the center of the room. She found everything just as she had left it the last time she'd been there – that is, still missing nearly all of the files from the Rosie Larsen case. Her eyes darted everywhere. Her mind was running a million miles a second, but she stood as calm and still as a statue.

She was the eye of the storm that was raging around her, a storm that was raging even harder inside of her, so hard that she found herself immobilized. She wanted to scream, she wanted to hurl everything that still remained in that office to the ground, but for what? What good would it do? None. Why did it feel like nothing she did would do any good at all? What had she done _any_ of it for, if it was going to come to this in the end?

Suddenly she felt an overwhelming urge to get out of that room. Out of the police station. It was as if the air inside was suddenly suffocating her, and if she stayed there another second she would choke. She wheeled around, flung open the door and nearly ran over a tech who happened to be passing by as she headed for the exit. She didn't even look back as the startled newbie mumbled an apology for bumping into her. She had to get out of that building as quickly as she could. _Right now._

She burst out of the front door of the station with such force that the few people who were milling around outside looked up, startled. One of the officers who was standing outside, smoking, actually reached towards his gun before realizing that it was one of his fellow police officers causing the commotion. They continued to watch her as she stomped across the parking lot towards her car. Sarah Linden was known in the department for her intensity, but even those who knew her watched her in surprise at that moment.

She just had to make it to her car, so that she could shut out the rest of the world.


	11. What You See Is What You Get

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episodes 8 and 9

DAY 8, evening

Linden had done something that she wasn't proud of, but by doing so, she had found the answer to one of the questions that had burned inside for the past few days: what was Holder hiding? The answer, it turned out, had become clear when she had followed him to a dark basement earlier that day, where his NA meeting had taken place. She had learned a lot more about him and about his past than she had ever expected as he had stood at that podium.

It's already dark when Sarah and Jack arrive at the docks. Jacks storms off toward Regi's boat as soon as the car stops. Linden starts to follow him, when suddenly Holder approaches her, walking down the sidewalk. She hadn't even seen him coming.

"Hey, Linden. What's with Little Man?"

"Nothing. What're you doing here?"

Holder doesn't answer her, just looks out at the water beyond the docks. "Sweet view. You living here now?"

"For a little while, yeah."

He tells Linden that he got an emergency wiretap with the phone company for Ahmed's phone. "I had to do something while you were shutting me out."

For the second time that day, Sarah Linden is embarrassed by her behavior towards Holder. "That's all arranged, I'm guessing?" She sounds slightly apologetic, and possibly even a little bit impressed at his initiative.

"Yeah. Judge Elliot? I know him back from my Narco days. Me and him are like…" he makes some hand motions resembling a secret handshake. "It's not going to be a problem."

"OK. Til then we don't need to tell Oakes."

"I know… So, um, is there something, is there something you want to ask me?" He's trying to make it easy for her, just in case she has any questions that hadn't been answered by what she had already seen.

"Not anymore, no."

"Good. Cause what you see is what you get."

"Yeah. I should've known… subtlety isn't exactly your strong suit." They both laugh at this observation. It's a pretty big understatement, after all, and Holder can't exactly argue with her on this one.

"No, maybe not. So what do you say, you want to be my date tonight, sit on the wire?" He could have given her a hard time about the whole thing, and on another day he might've. But really, it wouldn't have accomplished anything… and when it came down to it, he'd rather that they got along. They made a pretty good team.

"Yeah why not? He'd rather be with Regi anyways."

"I'll drive," he says. This time, Linden doesn't argue. It's about time she gives the guy a break, after all.

_Holder_

Well, now I know why Linden was pissed at me this morning. She saw me meet up with Gil. I guess from her perspective, I was acting suspicious. She probably thought she was seeing me do something illegal, and that made her _think_ I couldn't be trusted. OK, I _could've _told her, though I certainly was within my rights not to… it's no one else's business where I was going. Except that then I get myself into exactly the situation I ended up in. Oh well, she knows now.

I was _so_ pissed at her when I realized that she'd followed me to the meeting… but I guess in her situation I'd have been suspicious too. And following people who act suspiciously is kinda _exactly_ what we do for a living.

So, I could've gotten all self-righteous, all "how dare you follow me, why don't you trust me?" on her, but no… that wouldn't solve anything, wouldn't make it better. We've kinda become partners - we weren't supposed to be, but since she hasn't left (and probably won't), it's just happened. And partners have to be able to trust each other. Hopefully she'll trust me, eventually.

_Linden_

Am I a little bit ashamed of myself for following him to the NA meeting? _Yes. _

Can I understand why he didn't tell me what he was really doing? _Yes. _

Should I have trusted him? Maybe even just asked him a question instead of jumping to conclusions? _Probably._ He _might_ have told me what was actually going on, if I'd given him the chance.

Should I apologize now, since he knows that I followed him? _Probably. _

Will I be able to make myself? _That remains to be seen._ I _hate _apologizing. Not because I can't stand to be wrong (though who _does _like to be wrong?), but because I can't stand not to be in control. You never know how someone is going to react to the truth.

…

DAY 9

Holder was pacing the length of their small office early the next morning when Linden slowly opened the door and stepped in. They looked at each other without smiling or speaking. They were knee deep in a serious case, and there wasn't generally a lot to smile about, but they still _usually_ managed conversations. Holder generally supplied the jokes – one of his specialties. However, today wasn't one of those days. They'd been asked to come in and meet with Lt. Oakes, and had ten minutes until they were supposed to be in his office. Linden closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it. She still hadn't said a word. She really had no idea what she should say. What was there _to _say?

"I'm sorry, Linden, I really thought it was a sure thing." Holder stopped pacing and crossed his arms, looking at the floor and sighing in frustration before looking back at her.

Linden nodded and uttered a barely audible "Yeah," before she took off her jacket and tossed it on the chair beside her desk. Glancing back at Holder again, she realized that he was waiting for her to say something. "We'll figure it out, Holder. There's always another way."

Holder, though he still looked pained, managed a weak but grateful smile. He wanted so much to impress the people he worked with – Oakes, of course, but mainly Linden. He used to wonder why he wanted her approval so much, but he had slowly come to understand that it was because she was so good at her job. The fact that she seemed to think so little of him most of the time played a part as well.

It struck him that she was reassuring him about the fact that the warrant hadn't gone through, _not_ the fact that they were most likely in serious trouble with Oakes, as if that part wasn't even a concern of hers.

That the warrant being killedwas what she thought was the bigger deal was encouraging to him. Of _course_ she was more discouraged by obstacles in her way of getting to the truth than she was by what the LT thought of her. Linden didn't care what _anyone_ thought of her. She believed in doing what was right in order to solve a case, no matter what the consequences to herself – to a fault sometimes, even when she _should_ care about what happened to her. It made Holder both admire her _and _worry about her. _Someone _should worry about her, since she clearly didn't worry about herself, and she didn't have anyone in her life - except her son, Jack - who would, at least not as far as he could tell.

He looked up and caught her watching him, and he realized that he had zoned out for a minute or two. Judging from the look on her face, she was waiting for a response. "Sorry, what did you say?" he asked her.

"I just said that we need to head down to Oakes' office," she repeated, looking at him carefully. "Are you OK?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in thought for a second there." He tried to muster a smile, despite a growing sense of apprehension about the meeting they were about to have. Linden may not have been nervous about what Oakes was going to say, but _he _was. "You know how we do."

Despite everything that was going on that day, Holder's last comment made the faintest trace of a smile appear on Linden's face, and that smile made it a tiny bit easier to deal with the fact that he felt like they were marching to their death as they followed the hallway to Lt. Oakes' office. At least, if nothing else, they were in it together.


	12. An Illegal Wiretap

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 9

DAY 9

Linden and Holder stand side by side across the desk from Oakes in his office. Unbeknownst to Linden, Holder had tried to get a wiretap on Ahmed's phone using the Patriot Act… _after_ the recording had taken place – which was definitely _not_ the way he had explained his actions to her. Oakes is now playing the recording of Ahmed's phone call over the speaker.

Oakes stops the recording at the end. To say that he's angry is an understatement. "You know, I wish I could play for you the phone call I got from ADA Bernstein this morning, asking me why one of my detectives is going directly to a judge to obtain an _illegal wiretap_!"

"Sir…" Holder began, but Oakes didn't let him go any further.

"I don't give a rat's ass how you do things at County. Now you obviously _don't_ like being a City homicide detective, do you?"

"It was my idea. I told him to set up the tap," Linden volunteered, despite the fact that she had done no such thing, hadn't even known that that was what Holder had done. It was the least she could do, since she had at times actively tried to _prevent_ him from helping her until this point.

This didn't make Oakes feel any better, however. "You're supposed to _keep him from screwing up_, not show him how!"

Linden remained calm. "We don't need the tap as evidence. We get the phone company to unblock Mohammad's number, track its location, we get Mohammad, we get Bennett."

"With that little stunt last night? A public defender could get that thrown out." Oakes was angrier than Linden had ever seen him.

"So is that it, then?" she wasn't going to stand in his office any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Look, I asked you to stay here to solve this case, not ruin my career."

_Ruin your __**career?**__ Excuse me? _With sarcasm dripping from her words, Linden replied, "I didn't realize that's what I'd been doing all these years." Then she left his office without another word, before she said something she would regret later. Holder wasn't far behind her.

_Holder_

I don't know what happened in there, except that Linden just took a bullet for me, so to speak. I sure as hell did _not _see that coming! This is the same cop who has been almost nothing but a pain in my ass practically every day that we've worked together…

And yet for some reason I care about her opinion. Why? Crazy as it is, I do, because she is damn good at her job.

So why the hell did she tell Oakes that she told me to set up the wiretap? After finding out that I'm an addict, suddenly she's willing to lie for me? It would make more sense if it'd been the opposite, that she found out about my past and _then_ shut me out. And how did she change her mind that fast, because that meeting was _yesterday! _Guilty conscience, maybe? She finally felt bad about never really giving me a chance?

This whole situation is kind of insane. But then, this _is _Linden we're talking about. I wouldn't exactly call her stable. I've never met someone who seems to operate so completely based on her emotions. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, I have no idea.

_Linden_

Why _did_ I tell Oakes that I told Holder to set up that wiretap? Am I crazy? Since when am I covering for _Holder_, of all people?

Then again, I guess it makes sense when I really think about it… Oakes did have a point when he said I've treated Holder like a lapdog. I guess I just felt bad about all that, and I didn't want him to get taken off the case before he _really_ had a chance to work on it. Because that was my fault, not his.

Granted, he did something stupid. OK, lots of stupid things. But it's not his fault that I hate working with a partner and always have. That's not his fault. And since I'm still here and he's here, and we seem to be working this case together, the least I can do for the guy is not screw up his career_ for_ him – he seems more than capable of doing that on his own – and for no other reason than I don't like working with people.

So basically, I felt guilty about acting like a bitch.

…

Though Oakes had read them the riot act, it didn't mean for a second that there wasn't still work to be done on their case. There was actually _more _work to be done now to make up for the wiretap that had blown up in their faces.

However, neither of them had eaten breakfast that day, because they had needed to be in early for their meeting and because of their varying degrees of nerves. But Holder had made it clear that food was going to be their first priority after they met with Oakes. His exact words had been, "Linden, you're gonna eat. No discussion."

Therefore, after their verbal lashing, the pair headed for the car without a word. Linden would have gone straight back to work, of course, but Holder had insisted that they needed to eat _something_. Linden had the keys, and this time Holder didn't care one way or the other who was driving.

As a matter of fact, since they left Oakes' office, Holder hadn't said _anything_. He hadn't spoken since being interrupted by Oakes at the beginning of their "conversation." It was definitely not like Holder to be so quiet, and certainly not for this long. Linden buckled her seatbelt, put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it. Instead, she stopped and looked at him with concern. "You ok, Holder?" Holder had been staring out the window, but her question seemed to bring him back to the present.

"What? Yeah, I'm OK," said Holder unconvincingly, still looking out the window. After another minute he turned and looked her, holding her gaze before he spoke. Linden could see the wheels turning in his head. "Whatever made you do it, thanks, Linden." There was no question that he was talking about the fact that she had taken the blame for the wiretap that had just gotten them in so much trouble.

"Yeah, well, it's about time I was helping you instead of shutting you out," she replied, referring to their conversation by the docks. She glanced out the front window before looking back at him. "Besides," she continued seriously, "you clearly need all the help you can get." She raised an eyebrow and grinned ever so slightly at her own joke.

The smile that crept over Holder's face made him look more like himself than he had only a minute before. "No doubt about that!" he agreed. "But right now, what I most need help with is getting some food. You up to the challenge? Or should I drive?" _Yep, Holder was definitely back to normal_, thought Linden.

"Nope, I got this." Linden turned the key in the ignition and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

Just like she wasn't going to let Holder get booted from the case – for reasons beyond her comprehension, since he sure was a pain in the ass – Holder wasn't going to let her get away with not doing the basics of taking care of herself, like eating.

It occurred to Linden that though she hated to admit it, knowing that someone was looking out for her for a change kind of felt good.


	13. Almost Midnight

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 10

DAY 9, almost midnight

Linden and Holder are back in their office. It turns out that Bennett Ahmed, along with the mysterious "Mohammed," has been hiding Aisha, a Somali girl trying to escape female circumcision. He was _not_ trying to cover up Rosie Larsen's murder. Not only did Ahmed _not _kill Rosie Larsen, but he has just ended up in the hospital, beaten half to death because someone is convinced that he killed her. It's all just a horrible coincidence.

Linden and Holder had thought they were so close to solving the case, and now they're back to square one, except with an innocent man lying in the hospital. Frustrating isn't the right word for this day. It's devastating.

Holder collapses into his chair. Linden stands by her desk for a minute, staring at it, then begins straightening the supplies that she left there earlier. Holder knows that she's almost ready to break. "Come on, let's go," he tells her wearily.

She doesn't respond, just continues shuffling things around on her desk with increasing ferocity. Holder is now standing in the doorway, watching her. "Come on Linden, it's almost midnight. You can get all anal tomorrow."

"You don't have to wait for me," she finally snaps at him in a quiet but fierce voice.

He knows that she's blaming herself. He walks back into the room towards her as he says, "He was a_ good_ suspect. You know, any cop would've done what we did." Because he knows her by now, he knows that she needs to hear this – if she'll even listen.

"I _never_ should've talked to the Larsens." She sighs and collapses into her chair.

"Yo, Linden, it ain't your fault. He _lied_ to us. Lied to us about his relationship with Rosie, lied to us about that night, about the girl. I mean, if he'd of been straight with us things would've turned out different."

"Maybe. Or maybe he would've ended up in jail for kidnapping a minor. He didn't have much choice, did he?"

"If you wanna get all worked up about it, that's your thing." Linden gives him a look that tells him she isn't taking his words the way he means them. "I'm not saying he _deserved_ it. You know, I feel bad about it too, but I'm telling you one thing. I'm not gonna let myself lose any sleep over it… And neither should _you_."

Linden just continues to lean back in her chair, staring at him. Holder walks slowly back to the door of the office, then turns around to look at her.

"You coming?"

"Yeah." Linden gets up, feeling every tired muscle in her body ache. Just before she can follow Holder out of the office, the phones rings. She answers it to learn that Stan Larsen has turned himself in for beating up Bennett Ahmed.

_Holder_

Of all the things I might have expected in this case, what actually happened is NOT one of them. To get so close – or think we were getting so close – only to have to start over pretty much from the beginning… well, it sucks. No way around it. I'm exhausted just from getting this far. I hate the thought that it was all for nothing… but that's the job sometimes. Not like it hasn't happened before.

But Linden… poor girl is gonna make herself crazy if she don't watch out. She gets this look on her face when she's really intense over part of a case – I mean, I'm gonna assume that her behavior in this case is the norm, cause I've only ever seen her work this case – and I can just tell she's spinning the wheels fast and furious… but not healthy levels of intensity, the ones for mere mortals. It's like, she don't have the switch that most people have that tells then when they're going out of the realm of logic and reason. Or that she has to sleep or eat or shower. On top of everything else, she blames herself for all of the chaos going on in this case, which is insane, because she tried everything within her power and lots of things that are not at all within her power to figure it all out.

So maybe I do have a purpose around here after all (besides my sparkling personality and pretty face, of course), because whether she wants to admit it or not, she can't do it all on her own… and besides, someone needs to keep her connected with Planet Earth.

_Linden_

I just… it doesn't seem possible. I can't believe how many different ways I fucked this up. I should've known. I should've seen it. I should've… I don't even know what I should've done, but I should've done _something_ differently. That's the worst part: the "what if's." What if there was a detail I missed somewhere along the way, and if I'd just noticed it, we'd have realized…

I just have to work _harder_. I need to get to the truth.

…

DAY 10, evening

They had been up for fifty hours straight. FIFTY. HOURS. Holder was having trouble focusing on what he was doing, and he sure as hell wasn't able to think about all the details of the case. When he finally stood up to leave, Linden asked where he was going… she acted like his going home to sleep after fifty hours on the job was completely unreasonable.

Holder walked out of their office, slowly on his way to the parking lot. Linden followed him into the hall.

"Seriously, you're leaving?"

"Linden, chill! I'm fucking exhausted! You can go for days without sleep, but I can't!"

"We have to _solve_ it!"

"We _will!_ But it's not gonna happen tonight, and it's definitely not gonna happen if we both collapse."

She was pissed off, but she knew he was right. She hated the fact that she had to stop to sleep at all. She liked to think that she could power through anything… but the last few days were starting to catch up with her, too.

He gave it one more shot. "Linden, seriously, it's not healthy. You need to sleep."

Come to think of it, she _was_ having trouble focusing… she sighed heavily. "I know, I just…" She couldn't find the right words, but she didn't need to. He knew her well enough by now.

He walked back down the hall to where she was standing. "Come on, go get your coat. I'm not taking no for an answer."

_Dammit, I hate when he's right._

Linden did as instructed. She hadn't realized quite how tired she was until she walked out into the hallway to chastise him for leaving. She didn't have the energy to fight with him about it.

He was waiting for her in the hall, leaned heavily against the wall, when she came back out with her coat on. "You need a ride back to the docks? I can drop you off."

"Uh, no, that's OK, thanks. I can make it." It was easier not to have to explain why she wasn't staying there anymore, at least for the time being. They walked down the silent hallway together.

Just before they went their separate ways to go to their respective cars, Linden told him "I'm still mad at you," but it was obvious that she wasn't actually mad.

"I know, I know, you wanna work yourself to death. Not gonna let it happen, Linden. Now go home and sleep. You're not allowed back here for at least eight hours!"

"Who put you in charge?" she asked in mock indignation.

"I did. Now _go home!"_ he told her firmly, but with a trace of a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going. Good night."

"Night, Linden."


	14. Running Away

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 11

DAY 11

Linden had gotten a phone call. Jack hadn't been at school for three days, today included, though she had dropped him off there that morning. He was also not at the hotel. He was not with Regi – she and her boat were in the San Juan islands til next Friday. He was not with Nash. He was not at "The Tunnel."

Holder had gone with her to all of these places, had refused to leave her to look for him alone, even when she had told him it was fine, that he should go. She knew he had somewhere to be – a date or something – but no, he hadn't gone anywhere. He'd had her back with the middle school wanna-be "thugs," even though she would've argued that she hadn't needed back up, of course. He'd even managed to unblock Jack's phone by guessing his password – "Funyuns," of all things.

He was supposed to meet up with Liz for Davie's school parade that afternoon. He felt bad, but there was no way he could make it, not the way things were going today. There was no way he was leaving Linden. Not now.

He dialed Liz's cell phone number, but got her voicemail. He couldn't decide if it was better that he hadn't gotten her in person or not. At least this way he could say what he needed to say without her yelling at him. He didn't have to hear the disappointed tone in her voice, the one that told him she had expected this of him all along.

Holder grasped for the words to explain. "Hey Liz, umm, I'm not going to be able to make it to the parade. Uh, yeah see there's, uh, there's this friend and, uh, she's in need, and it's kinda like an emergency, you know? Or, it _is_ an emergency and…"

"Liz, this ain't like before. Alright? This is for real. And you know I wouldn't have missed this thing for anything in the world, but, Liz, I… I gotta see this through. You know, she… she needs me, you know?"

"And… and please tell Little D that I'm coming over later, cause I still got something for him… if that's OK. Please call and tell me if that's OK for me to come on by."

After leaving the message for Liz, Holder went back to the car. Linden was waiting there for him. She'd been leaned back against the seat with her eyes closed, but she opened them when he got into the car.

"Is everything OK?" she asked him.

"Yeah."

"Thanks Holder, for being my ride."

Those six words had come to mean a lot to them, though they had started out as something Holder had said out of frustration with her early on. Neither of them really had anyone else to depend on in their lives… not anyone they could _really_ lean on, who would see the _good _in them. So those six words translated to something more like "Thanks for being there, for believing in me." Because really, in the end, that was all that mattered. It was what both of them needed more than anything, whether they realized it or not.

"Yeah well… it ain't no thing." Holder looked down, not meeting her eyes, though she continued to look at him. He wouldn't have done _this_ much for just anyone, nice guy though he was. It was hard to explain, other than how he had explained it to Liz. "She needs me."

_Holder_

_Holy shit_. I've seen Linden lose her mind many times before… but this is a different, exceptional kind of stress. No one should _ever _have to go through this. She keeps telling me she's ok, but this is the kind of day that some people go into therapy for – for a long time.

She told me I should go, but there's no way I could do that to her. Never. She _wants_ to believe that she doesn't need anyone, ever, and maybe she really does believe it… but I see right through that. She needs me. When was the last time anyone needed _anything_ from me? I can't let her down. I won't.

_Linden_

_Oh. My. God._

I can't… I don't… I…

He has to be alright. _He has to_. But where is he? WHERE? What did he do? What could have happened to him?

Breathe, Sarah. Find the clues. What do you know?

Just maybe, it's like what Holder said…

"_Sometimes I think you just run away just so someone'll come looking for you."_

I know that I don't pay enough attention to Jack, that I'm not there for him like I should be. I want to be. I just… it's just so hard. So hard to be there, to be needed like that. I don't know how to be needed like that.

Or was Holder talking about _me_?

"_Sometimes I think you just run away just so someone'll come looking for you. Staying put? It's kinda running away. You know what I'm saying?"  
><em>

"_I usually have no idea, and this time is no different."_

"_Sonoma? Come on!"_

Am I? Running away by staying? I had every intention – _honestly _– of leaving this job, this life. I loved the idea of moving to Sonoma, of being with Rick… at least… I _think _I did… Admit it, Sarah, you wouldn't know happy if it kicked you in the face. I guess what I felt was what I thought it "should" feel like… but then… how happy could I actually have been about the idea of being in Sonoma with Rick if I'm still _here_? Especially knowing how he feels about me being here! Or, is the problem that I just don't _want_ to be happy?

_Or_ was Holder talking about both Jack _and_ me… I guess I've passed that on to him, poor kid.

As much as I hate to have to admit it, I think Holder has a point. But do most people feel that way sometimes? Like you want to believe that someone cares enough to come looking for you? Like you want them to _prove_ that they care by looking for you… literally or figuratively, or maybe both. Like you're afraid that the truth is they _won't_ care enough to come looking for you?

It can't just be me… or is it?

_Dammit, Jack, where are you?_

…

Linden realized that Holder had been talking to her. She had been staring out the window, not really focusing on anything except the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Or was it hunger? When had she last eaten, anyway?

"Yo, Linden! You hear me?" Holder was looking at her from the corner of his eyes as he was driving when she finally looked over.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, sounding dazed.

"We are going to stop to get something to eat. You got a preference?" He had seen her eat so seldom, he still didn't really know what she actually _liked_, if anything.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"I'm sorry, I think you misheard me. _We_ are stopping for food. We are both stopping, we are both eating." He had a very serious look on his face. Sarah didn't have the energy to argue with him.

"Fine. Whatever, I'm not hungry anyway." Holder would have to take his victories where he could get them with her, and he knew it.

He parked in front of some nondescript fast food restaurant. Luckily for them, for once, it wasn't raining, so they didn't end up soaking wet for the third or fourth (but who could really keep track?) time that day. Once inside, Holder ordered what sounded to Linden like enough food for a small army, though she didn't focus on what any of it was. Once the order was heaped onto the tray, they found seats at a somewhat clean looking table and slid onto opposite sides of the booth. Holder gave her a coffee, black (that much he _had_ learned about her) – though she probably didn't need any more caffeine today - and told her to choose something from the tray. She chose the smallest, most normal looking thing there, a small container of fries, and started munching on one so that Holder would relax. She felt slightly like throwing up, but it was probably to be expected in this situation, and he knew rationally that he was right, she should try to eat _something._

She did her best to hold up her end of the conversation, though she was fairly sure that she only heard about half of what was going on around her. Holder didn't seem to mind. He was just happy that she had eaten something. He thought she was doing OK, all things considered. Of course, they hadn't found Jack yet.

"You ready, Linden?" he asked, pulling her out of yet another daze as he stood up to leave.

"Yeah, let's go," Linden agreed wearily. They walked out of the restaurant and into the deepening darkness of a late fall afternoon


	15. It's Not Him

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episodes 11 and 12

DAY 11, evening

It's dark now, the rain has stopped and Linden and Holder are sitting in the car. Linden has her head down in her hands, Holder is staring out the window. Both are lost in thought somewhere else.

Suddenly the police radio crackles to life. "CS Unit needed down at 3012 Leverage Street, body of an unidentified Caucasian male, ten to thirteen years of age, five foot three, one hundred ten pounds, brown hair, coroner's en route. We need two more units on scene."

Holder is now watching Linden cautiously, as if he is fully expecting her to explode at any second. "It's not him," he almost whispers.

…

_Linden_

No. _NO! _It can't be Jack. He has to be OK. He _has to_.

I can't…

But, what if…

_Oh my God… __**please, no**_**.**

We have to get there. Right now. I have to see for myself. Holder knows me. He's going to know that I'm not taking no for an answer. One way or the other, I have to know.

…

"3012 Leverage Street."

"You don't need to be there." He says it, but he knows that that's where they're going. He says it more as a reassurance to her than an attempt to convince her that they shouldn't go.

"Go." There's absolutely nothing that's going to change her mind, so they go, lights and sirens on.

Sarah is out and running past the other detectives as soon as Holder stops the car at the scene, before anyone has time to realize what she's doing there or why she's running, much less to be able to stop her.

"Linden, st-!" It's too late, she reaches the body before he can even tell her to stop, much less stop her. But Holder catches up to her quickly, a few feet from the plastic draped body, where Sarah has stopped. She can't see from where they are whether it's Jack or not, and she's suddenly afraid to go any closer.

"Let's get back to the car." Holder knows she won't, but he feels like he needs to try. Who knows what they're about to find.

"I just need to see him," she says stubbornly.

"No, you don't need to see him." Holder suddenly grabs her from behind, arms wrapped around the middle of her tightly, to keep her from going any closer to the body. She pushes back fiercely against him – they're both trained police officers, and pretty evenly matched, so it's quite a struggle.

"GET OFF OF ME!" Linden shrieks.

"It's not him! _It's not him!_" Holder knows that she's so trapped inside her own head that she probably can't hear him, but he says it anyway.

…

_Holder_

Stay with me, Linden. Come on, I got you. _It's not him._ Don't ask me how I know, I just know. Little Man's OK. I swear, Little Man's OK. It's _**all**_ gonna be OK. Scream as loud as you want. I got you…

…

Linden screams and flails against Holder's restraint. He isn't deterred.

"_Jack!_"

Suddenly the radio is crackling again, and Holder slowly releases his hold on her as he feels her relax so that she can hear the radio. "We got an ID on John Doe. Please stand by for an ID on the victim." The wait until the voice on the radio announces the victim's identity seems to last an eternity.

The voice on the radio continues. "I've got positive identification on the victim as one Daniel McClintock, M-C-C-L-I-N-T-O-C-K, first name Daniel. Address is 549 Hastings Street, Aberdeen. Parents en route. Stand by."

Linden walks slowly around the corner of a nearby building – all of the adrenaline of the past few minutes has suddenly drained from her body – and collapses on the ground. She begins to sob with relief. She hasn't found Jack, but at least there's no proof that anything terrible has happened to him. There's still hope.

It has all been too much. Holder watches her from a few feet away as the sobs shake her body, then slowly comes to sit beside her. He puts his hand gingerly on her shoulder, unsure of how she'll react, but wanting to comfort her somehow. She doesn't flinch, and he rubs her shoulder ever so slightly.

This is the other side of his tough-as-nails partner, the side that she hides from the world by keeping everyone at arm's length. Until now.

Finally, Sarah's tears subside and her breathing returns to normal. "Let's go," Holder almost whispers. Linden nods slightly and they both get to their feet.

Back at the hotel, they wind through the hallways until, rounding a corner, they suddenly see Jack at the far end of the hall. He's standing in front of the door to their room. He's listening to music over his headphones and doesn't notice them. Linden and Holder stand side by side, looking at the boy who has caused so much heartache that day. Without taking his eyes off Jack, Holder says, "Kick his ass."

"No doubt," Linden replies, also still watching her son.

Before they go their separate ways, they exchange one final look and a smile. It takes only a second, but the understanding between them after the emotional day they've spent together is so strong, that one look conveys almost an entire conversation.

_Linden_

What could I even have said to Holder after a day like today? I guess something like, "Thanks, Holder, for everything. Mostly, for being here. It meant a lot."

But I could tell just looking at him… he knew.

_Holder_

Sticking with Linden today was one of the best decisions I've made in a long time. It wasn't what you'd consider fun, of course, but man, sometimes you do something and you just know it was the right thing to do. You just feel it. This was one of those things.

She may not have said it, but I know I made a difference by being there today. I saw it in her eyes right before she went in to read Little Man the riot act. It's pretty cool when you can read a look someone gives you as if it was actual words. I don't know exactly what my look said to her, but I was going for something like, "No problem, Linden. You know you're my BFF. Whatever you need, you know I got you. And I'm glad Little Man's OK."

...

DAY 12

Linden and Holder had met up with Holder's former partner, Cami, from his days in undercover vice. She hadn't had a lot of information for them, but she was the one who'd told them about _Beau Soleil_, so it was a good start.

On their way back to the station from their little chat with Cami, the traffic suddenly ground to a halt. It looked like they were going to be stuck in the car for a while.

"You OK, Linden?" Holder asked, watching her carefully. Only 24 hours before, the search for Jack had just officially begun. He imagined that that was bound to take a toll on a person, their child going missing for a whole day. He'd watched her fall apart yesterday, and she'd been quiet today as well. He was still worried.

They were stopped at a traffic light, with Linden driving once again. She turned to look at him and smiled just a little. He was pretty sure it was the first time he'd seen her smile all day.

"Yeah, I'm doing better." Linden lied. She had been relieved when Jack had showed up last night, and she could lie to herself and say she was doing better, but she didn't feel it. There was something gnawing at her, even after Jack had gotten home safe.

It was probably more to do with the case at the moment, she thought. When she engrossed herself in a case, she often didn't come up for air until it was solved.

Holder looked at her skeptically, and Linden could tell that she was found out, discovered. He seemed to be able to see right through her bullshit. "Alright, busted," She threw up her hands in mock surrender. "Not better, really."

"I think you'll be alright," he said.

"Oh?" she asked, "you're gonna make sure of that?"

"Yes, I am," he replied, "I mean, you're my ride, Linden, I have to look out for you." For this comment he was rewarded with that rare gem – a small but genuine smile on his partner's face.


	16. Customer Service

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 12

DAY 12

Linden is at her desk composing an email to Orpheus when her phone rings. It's Holder, calling her from the hotel room, where he's waiting for Celine, his Beau Soleil "date."

"She show up yet? Your big date?" 

"No, she's late. I'm telling you, Linden, customer service just ain't what it used to be." He looks through a refrigerator full of water and alcohol, choosing a bottle of water.

"Yeah, well, Aleena's postings are our only link to Orpheus, so you'd better be willing to put out, Holder," she tells him. For once _she's_ the one giving _him_ a hard time.

"Yo speaking of, when are _you_ going on some dates? You know your man in Cali's MIA, Jack's running off to Chicago… Linden, you there?"

Linden, meanwhile, besides wanting to change the subject back to work, has uncovered something that may be important. "Did you know Drexler is one of Richmond's top donors?"

"So?" Holder doesn't see a connection.

"Richmond might know something relevant."

Just then, there's a knock on the door of Holder's hotel room.

"I'm out, my date's here."

Linden can't help but smile about Holder's "date," because she finds his current assignment very amusing. "Be safe," she tells him, her smile even apparent in her voice, and hangs up.

_Holder_

Finally, a task that Linden _couldn't_ tell me she was taking over even if she had wanted to. Not that she's been doing that the last few days. I seem to have finally gotten out of the doghouse with her. She's stopped giving me such a hard time, even started acting like I might know what I'm talking about. I gotta say, it's a nice change.

Of course, she'll probably get pissed at me again for something, like, tomorrow, if not sooner. That's just how she rolls. But it's all good, keeps things interesting.

_Linden_

Really, I should know better than to bring up "putting out" when talking to Holder, knowing how he loves to mess with me…

He didn't seriously think I was going to respond to his baiting me about going on dates… because there was no way I was going there. If there's one thing I _don't_ need to be doing, it's going on dates, and if I did, I don't think I would talk about it with Holder.

I don't even know where things stand with Rick – I haven't talked to him in a few days – but I know I don't need to go out looking for extra drama in my life. I can create more than enough drama all by myself. I hope he was kidding. Knowing him, he was probably just trying to get under my skin, like usual. Well, mission NOT accomplished.

…

DAY 13

They'd been canvassing gas stations – talking to owners, employees and customers – for the better part of the afternoon. It was getting monotonous and frustrating, and so far they hadn't turned up a single lead. They were both getting a little bit irritable.

"Hey, when did you eat last?" Holder asks as they get ready to head to yet another gas station that will likely be as thankless as all of the other ones they've visited so far today.

"Uhhhh…" Linden hesitates and tries to remember.

"Wrong answer. We need to make a stop. Because I know if I'm hungry, and I actually eat, then you definitely need to eat," Holder announced. "You going to let me drive, or are you going to be able to drive to a restaurant and stop the car? I don't know if you know what they look like…"

"Ha ha, very funny," Linden says, making a face at him. Then she does something completely unexpected: she tosses him the keys. Since they're already in the car, there's not much space between them, so he has to react very quickly to keep from being hit in the face with them. He's so surprised, they almost _do_ hit him in the face.

"Wait…" Holder begins, still in shock. "You're voluntarily giving me the car keys? You sick or something? You feeling OK? You're not coming down with something, are you?" Holder seriously can't come up with a reason why Linden just turned over the keys without a fight. It had never happened before. And all just because he asked her? He didn't have to beg or something?

"No," Linden makes a face at him and answers simply. "You're right, we should eat. I'm actually kinda hungry. And since I don't care what kind of food we get, it makes sense if you drive." Linden concludes her explanation, and Holder just stares at her. Finally, slowly, they get out of the car and switch sides. Holder still looks confused, like he's not sure who it is he's in the car with, and Linden is pretty amused by his confusion.

"Yo, what's so funny, anyway?" Holder asks her. She's been watching him and looking like she's going to burst out laughing for several minutes now. It's just weird. He used to have to try pretty hard to get her to smile at all!

"_You_ are! Is it_ that_ big a deal that I gave you the keys? Cause you're looking at me like I have three heads or something," she tells him.

"You're just full of surprises is all, Linden," Holder tells her, shaking his head.

"What can I say? Maybe you're rubbing off on me! Now are we going to get something to eat or do I need to take those keys back and drive there myself?"

"Alright, Linden, we're going, don't get all riled up," he replies as he starts the car.


	17. I Got This

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 1, episode 13

**Author's Note: **Thank you all so much for reading this story so far, and special thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave me a review! Of course, I'm writing this story because I enjoy it and I love the show, but there's something about knowing that other people enjoy it too that really makes me happy! This is the last chapter corresponding with season 1 (as you may have guessed from the "spoiler" line at the top), but don't worry, there's no break between seasons. I'll be diving right into season 2 as soon as this chapter is posted. As you can see, this story's not ending any time soon…

DAY 13

Linden and Holder are in the car, parked at yet _another_ gas station where they failed to find any trace of Rosie Larsen or the black campaign car she had been found in. They're getting frustrated.

Holder gives his theory about why they're not finding anything on that part of the route – "No one fills up a tank til it's empty, right?" He continues his explanation. Meanwhile, Linden is grinning at him.

"What's so funny?" Holder can't imagine why Linden has that smile on her face. It's not as though she smiles that often, and now she's grinning for what seems like no reason – for the second day in a row!

"You trying to do math is kind of like a dog wearing a hat," she explains.

"Yeah, whatever. _LISTEN!_ So he's got enough gas to go from the campaign parking lot, to the casino, and over the bridge. That's a total of 110 miles, give or take. Meaning, he would have been driving on fumes south of the bridge. _That's_ when he filled up the tank. Not before."

"And how does this help us?" Linden is still skeptical of how Holder's calculations make any difference.

"There's a gas station on Lowell Street. It's about 5 miles from Discovery Park. It would have been right in his path."

"Lowell Street's not on the list." It's taking Linden a while to warm up to Holder's theory.

"Yo, trust me, Linden. I _got_ this."

_Holder _

I _think_ she's buying my theory. Even if she's not buying it, as long as she's willing to go along with it long enough to check it out, that's ok with me. She's making fun of my math skills, but whatever. I can take it as well as I can dish it out. I guess it's my turn to be on the receiving end for a change.

I **know** I'm right about this… it just makes sense. This could be the break in the case that we've been looking for.

_Linden_

I guess that after everything that's happened in the past two weeks, it's my turn to give Holder the benefit of the doubt. Besides, what's the harm in checking out that gas station on Lowell Street? I think I've second guessed him enough… and we seem to be striking out so far anyway. God knows I don't want to check any more of these nasty gas stations toilets than I have to.

…

Holder stands by the window that looks into the room where Richmond is being processed. Linden comes around the corner and sees him standing there. She walks slowly over to stand beside him.

"After all that…" she says, watching the exchange between Richmond and the officer behind the glass.

"Yeah…" Holder turns to face her. "So, what's next, Linden? You finally heading for So-_no_-ma?"

She turns towards him and leans the side of her head against the glass. "Yep. We leave tonight. I think I'm going to sleep for the next week, and then we'll see what happens."

"Well, you've certainly earned it. I mean, you've also been rewarded with the delightful opportunity to work with me, of course, which is a bonus…" They both smile at Holder's bravado. "…but you really put yourself through a lot when you're working a case, don't you?"

Linden's head bobs slightly in agreement.

"You always do that, or did you just do it this time because you wanted an excuse to spend more time with me?" _Holder is such a little kid, Linden thinks to herself._

She looks back at Richmond on the other side of the glass. "I guess I do that with the cases I care most about."

Holder glances at Richmond, but then looks back at her. "Well, I for one am very impressed with your _insane_ work ethic. It's completely unhealthy, and definitely makes you a workaholic. Seriously, you make me look like a slacker, which I'm _not_, no matter what _you_ may think, so it's probably best that you move on out of here." Classic Holder, grin on his face, giving her a hard time once more for "old time's" sake… if it can be old time's sake after 13 days. Somehow it feels like they've known each other for years already.

"Yeah, sorry I've been cramping your style around here," Linden replies. They could probably go on like this all day.

"It ain't no thing, Linden. It's all good."

They both smile, then turn back to look at Richmond. It's been a crazy two weeks. They stand that way for a while, both lost in thought.

…

Without looking away from the scene still unfolding in front of them, with Richmond now being fingerprinted, Linden says, "I'm thinking you can handle the paperwork."

Holder turns his head slowly towards her, a smile creeping onto his face. "Oh, so _now_ I'm OK to work alone." He almost laughs at the Linden's not-quite-a-compliment.

Linden smiles at him. "You're a pretty good cop, Holder. You're gonna make a passable detective." Holder chuckles as he repeats the word "passable" under his breath.

Linden continues, "You want a tip? That mouth of yours? You don't have to say _every_ thoughtthat runs through your head." She isn't trying to be malicious - she says it with a smile. Yet again, Holder laughs.

"Yeah, well guess what I'm not saying now," he tells her. He pauses, then says, "Get outta here."

Linden smiles, and without a word she walks down the hall and around the corner. Holder watches her leave for the last time.

_Holder_

I guess she's not wrong about my mouth… she's not the first person to ever say that to me. Maybe one of these days I'll even take her advice into account… Maybe.

So she's actually leaving… I guess it's good that I didn't put money on that happening after all. It's gonna be weird around here without her, that's for sure.

Maybe I should've told her… No, it's all for the best.

Bye, Linden… it was nice working with you, after all.

_Linden_

Hopefully Holder can keep himself out of trouble, because I think he may do OK in this job. He's not what you'd expect a detective to be, but I guess sometimes that's a good thing. He definitely has his own way of doing things. I'll almost miss his stupid jokes…

Almost.

And now, to get out of Seattle, on to a fresh start.

_**End of season 1**_


	18. I Hope It Was Worth It

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 1

DAY 14

Linden had left Seattle. Or at least, she'd gotten as far as the airport. Whether she had changed her mind about Rick or Rick had changed his mind about her, in the end, it didn't really matter. She told Jack that this time they were staying in Seattle for good.

Of course, with Richmond having been shot, Linden had put herself back on the case. At this point it didn't matter what Oakes said, she had to see it through to the end. This meant that once again, she had to find somewhere to leave Jack while she was working. Today it had seemed like a good solution to leave him with his friend Nick at his church. Apparently Jack hadn't been happy with it, however, because now he's with Holder at the station.

Linden storms into the police station and heads straight to the office she had shared with Holder. Jack had called to tell her that he was there, and not with the "the Jesus Freaks," as he had called them.

Linden walks into the office to find Holder at his desk and Jack in the chair next to him. They seem to be having a great time. They'd always gotten along before, so it didn't surprise her.

"Hey mom," Jack says casually when she walks in.

"Oh snap! What's up Linden?" Holder's talking a little faster than usual, and his voice is a little higher and more cartoonish than normal.

"Hey." Linden wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, or for Holder's silliness.

Holder, on the other hand, found the situation very amusing. "Busted! You're like that monster in Friday the 13th. Only way to kill you is to chop off your head." Linden was giving him the death glare. "I was only kidding! You know you're my BFF."

"We gotta go, Jack," Linden told him.

"I'm not hanging out with those Jesus freaks."

"You know anything about the man? I mean JC did all kind of righteous shit," Holder interjected.

Linden just wanted to get Jack and get out of the station. "Get your stuff, come on."

"I gotta go to the bathroom," Jack protested.

"I'll go with you."

"God, mom, freakin…"

"You wanna wipe his booboo too?" Holder decides to stop teasing Linden and be serious for a minute. "Hey, yeah, I called you about Richmond."

"Yeah, I was busy getting us another flight. We missed ours last night." Linden said. "You wrapping up?"

"Yo, you left a _mess,_" Holder tells her.

Linden looks at him intently. "Looks like we both did."

"What Belko did ain't on us," Holder assures her. He assumes that's what she's talking about.

"That's one way of looking at it."

Seeing that he's getting nowhere fast, Holder tries another topic. "So, why're you back? For real."

That's the moment Jack comes back from the bathroom. "Come on, let's go," she tells him, and with that she's saved from a conversation that she _really _doesn't want to be having.

After thinking she knew Holder pretty well over the past few weeks, she is now furious with him for that forged picture of Richmond on the bridge. She'd be quite happy to never speak to him again. Except that she's also like to give him hell for it at the same time.

Jack and Holder do their special handshake and hug.

"You take care, OK?" Holder says. He has always liked Jack.

"Later," Jack tells him.

"Later, man," he says to Jack, who walks out into the hall.

Holder turns to Linden. "Bet you're gonna get that same psycho stewardess you yelled at so you could get off that plane." Clearly Jack has filled him in on the events of last night. She cringes inwardly. Holder seems to have a way of seeing right into her, past her defenses, even when he doesn't have Jack as an informant. She absolutely _hates_ that.

"Yeah, and good luck cleaning up the mess, I hope it was worth it," Linden replies, her tone calm but venomous.

They stare at each other for another minute, Holder looking slightly perplexed. Hadn't they left things on better terms than this yesterday? Linden walks out, leaving Holder sitting alone in the office to wonder.

_Holder_

Man, I knew that Linden wasn't gonna be happy to find Jack not in the place where she left him, but he clearly hadn't wanted to be there… I had to cut the kid a break. There's gotta be something else, though, some other reason why she seems extra pissed. I mean, we were on good terms yesterday… there has to be a reason she's super pissed at me today. Seriously, what did I do this time? I really can't do anything right around her, even when I think she's finally done giving me a hard time.

Whatever. I guess either she'll tell me when she decides she's ready to, or pissed enough, or she won't.

_Linden_

I'm so angry with Holder, I don't even know where to start. I would have loved to call him on the whole picture thing today, but not with Jack there, so it wasn't the right time. Jack's not part of this whole thing, or _any_ problems between Holder and me, it wouldn't be fair to him. He looks up to Holder, God help us.

I wonder how long I can work the case without having to talk to Holder. I'm willing to hold out as long as possible. I certainly don't need to constantly wonder if my partner is telling me the truth. Carlson says Holder's on the case with me, so I guess at some point he'll force us to talk, but I'm in no rush.

I really didn't think Holder was the kind of cop who took shortcuts, who would fabricate evidence… but it's not the first time I'm completely wrong about someone. And to think, I had started trusting him… I should've known better than that, I guess.

…

As Linden and Jack walked out, Holder tried to figure out what had her so pissed off. Granted, it wasn't like she'd never showed up suddenly pissed off at him before, but usually – _usually _– it turned out later that she had had a reason. Maybe not one that made complete sense, but a reason nonetheless.

So what was it this time? He got out of this chair and walked slowly into the hallway. As he rounded the first corner, he saw her at the end of the long hallway with Jack, rounding the next corner. He continued down the hall, slowly, but still as if he had a reason to be there.

When he reached the exit, he walked along the side of the building to his usual spot, took out a cigarette and lit it. As he did this, he looked casually around for her car. He saw it at the far end of the parking lot, and noticed the two of them in the car having what didn't really look like a friendly conversation. Of course, knowing both of them, this wasn't exactly a surprise. There were so many things between them, and Jack was, after all, a teenager. Neither of them were easy to deal with, and they only had each other. Holder liked them both, but he knew it was hard for them.

Holder tried to watch carefully for something that would give him an idea of why Linden had seemed so angry with him. He was fairly sure there was more to it than just the fact that Jack had left the church group and ended up hanging out with him. Jack seemed to be in his regular teenaged boy mood, the same attitude he'd taken with Linden when she'd shown up to get him a little while ago. Linden, on the other hand, seemed extra agitated, just as she had in the office. Unfortunately, that was all he could tell from that distance.

He finished his cigarette and went back inside, resigning himself to the fact that this time he was just going to have to wait for the other shoe to drop. Hopefully, she'd tell him eventually.


	19. Open the Door!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 2

DAY 15

Sarah and Jack enter their hotel room with a few miscellaneous boxes and bags of their things. Not because they are planning to stay at that hotel long, but, as she has explained to Jack, they can't leave anything important in the car without risking someone stealing it.

Within a minute of the door closing behind them, Holder is standing on the other side of the door, knocking urgently. If they'd walked a little more slowly, he would have caught up to them in the hallway.

"Linden…" Holder is almost banging on the door. Loudly. Without a word, she puts her finger to her lips to signal Jack not to make a sound.

"Open the door, Linden. I know you're in there, I need to talk to you." Holder sounds frantic. Linden remains silent behind the door.

Linden is still angry with him for both the forged photo of Richmond on Desolation Bridge and for "liberating" Jack from the church where she had dropped him off, so she doesn't move to open the door for him. It's fair to say that she'd be perfectly happy to have nothing to do with him.

She silently directs Jack with her arm, pushing him towards the bathroom as she slips the chain lock into its slot on the inside of the door.

The banging continues. "Open the door! I know you're in there, I saw your car parked outside." More banging. "Open the door!" he yells.

Holder isn't giving up. He just keeps on banging on the door. "Open the door, Linden, I gotta talk to you. I can explain…" She steps back against the wall perpendicular to the door, her mouth set in a hard line, waiting to see what happens next. Her face reveals the conflict she feels inside, but her anger and determination win out and she stays put.

He bangs again. The banging is getting harder and harder, more insistent. Linden is not entirely sure that Holder will give up his banging before the door gives out.

"Linden, just… open this… OPEN THE DOOR, LINDEN!" Holder's yelling at the top of his lungs now. Even his head hits the door this time.

And then suddenly, finally defeated, Holder sits down on the floor facing Linden's door with his back to the wall. He stays there for a few minutes, fingering the new detective badge that Gil had recently presented to him. Linden is standing on the other side of the door, ear pressed up against it hear what he would do next. As he plays with his badge, he lets it fall from his hands and onto the floor.

He gets up slowly, leaving the badge on the floor. Linden hasn't moved, ear still pressed to the inside of the door, listening for the retreating footsteps.

Holder walks away, down the hall and out of the hotel.

_Holder_

_Fuck._ What the hell have I done? I _didn't_ do it… but she thinks I did. She thinks I faked the picture. And of course she does, I would probably think so too if I was her. I have to get her to believe me, that it wasn't something _I_ did… except I can't even get her to talk to me. And if Linden don't believe me, well, ain't no one else gonna believe me neither.

I still can't believe it… Gil. Gil, who I thought was supporting me… my boss, my sponsor, my _friend_. And all along, nope, he thought I was a low life tweaker just like everyone else – and a dirty one at that. How could I have been so _stupid_ to believe that any of it could change?

There's no way to fix this, really… why have I bothered working so hard to get clean? It was all a joke, all for nothing. Redemption? It's bullshit. All they're gonna see is my mistakes.

_Linden_

Whatever it is that he wants to say, it's easier if I don't have to hear it. Easier to be here behind the closed door. As angry as I am with him, I'm angrier with myself for trusting him. Trusting people always seems to bite me in the ass. I tell myself that this person won't be the same as the last one, and the rest of them. No, this one will be different… but they never are. Eventually, everyone either leaves, screws me over or both.

I don't know why I bother. I don't need anyone anyway. I'm so much better off on my own.

…

When she was sure that Holder had gone, Linden finally let out a sigh of relief, and allowed herself to leave her post by the door. Jack, meanwhile, had come out of the bathroom and was watching her, understandably baffled - to put it mildly.

"Mom, _what_ was that about?" he asked, his face about as confused as Linden as ever seen it.

Linden struggled to find the words to explain what just happened. She sighed heavily as she walked towards the window. "It's hard to explain, Jack," was all she could think of.

"But he really wanted to talk to you, mom. Why didn't you just talk to him?"

"I will, but I'm not ready yet." She stood by the window, looking down at the street. Looking to see if she could see Holder's car, to see it leaving.

"But why not?"

"Not that I have to explain myself to you, my darling son, but it's because Holder did something – I'm pretty sure he did it, anyway – and I'm really angry with him for it."

"So you're not talking to him because you're mad at him… mom, isn't that kinda immature? Isn't that the kinda thing kids do? Not adults?" Jack asked bluntly.

Linden sighed, not taking her eyes off of the view out the window, and not answering Jack's question.

Her first thought was _Oh, you'd be surprised how childish adults can be, kid. _But at the same time, she had to concede that he might have a point. _Dammit, I hate when he's right_, she thought with annoyance_._

"So are you gonna talk to him when you're done being mad? Or what?" Jack wanted to know.

Linden sighed yet again. "I don't know, Jack. I need to think about it. It was a pretty serious thing that he did."

"But are you sure he did it, mom? Because Holder's a good guy. You _know_ that, right? Are you sure it's something he did, and not just a coincidence?"

"I guess I need to do some detective work, don't I?" Linden conceded. Jack nodded.

"Just make sure you're not mad at him for no reason, OK mom? He's a cool guy. It'd be nice if he'd stick around."

"Yeah, OK," Linden said as she looked out the window and finally saw what she had been looking for – Holder's car, driving away from the building. She sighed to herself. Jack was like her conscious, her voice of reason. The one that she hated to listen to, though she knew she should.

But not yet.


	20. Get Out of There

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episodes 3 and 4

DAY 16

Sarah and Jack are in their hotel room, where Sarah is allegedly "cooking" dinner. Ray calls on her cell phone, and they talk about the case. She goes online to download the files that Ray has sent her and Jack takes over the cooking. While they're on the phone, Linden gets a call on the other line from a woman she doesn't know.

"You gotta come get him."

"Who is this?" Her name is Clare, but she doesn't tell Linden that. She focuses on the reason for her call.

"Stephen. I got your number from his phone. Look, I don't really know him, but he's acting crazy."

Now she has Linden's attention. What has Holder done now? "Where are you?"

Linden gets to Biltmore Pier as fast as she can, where she finds Holder pacing on the median in the middle of traffic.

"What the hell are you doing?" Linden yells to him from the sidewalk.

He glances up then, and looks at her with a pained expression. However, he doesn't try to respond to her over the noise of the traffic rushing in both directions. She can tell that something is very wrong. He doesn't look like the same guy she's been working with for the past few weeks.

She tries to connect with him by using what she knows. "I know you switched the backpack. I know what you did, Holder." _Come back here and talk to me, Holder. I'm pissed at you, but I don't want you to get run over._

They look at each other some more. Holder's eyes are glassy, and it's not clear whether he's going to come back to her side of the road or not. He looks like he could go either way, either into traffic, or back to where she's standing.

"Come on, get out of there! Before I leave you here!" Linden wouldn't really do that, but she needs to get Holder to focus on getting away from the median of the bridge and the danger of oncoming cars on both sides.

Holder takes a few deep breaths, then crosses the traffic to the sidewalk on Linden's side of the bridge. He walks past her without a word, and she follows him.

Today, it's Linden's turn to be the strong one.

_Holder _

Those lights. Coming at me every which way. Why did I go out there in the first place? Did I really think it would be better if something happened to me? No, of course not. That's not me.

I can't explain it, really, other than, it just seemed like everything was falling apart. I just couldn't figure out what to do. I can't explain how going up on that bridge seemed like the best option, though. Was it a cry for help? Maybe. Was it smart? Definitely not. Was it the dumbest thing I've _ever_ done? Not even close.

I don't even really remember going out there, only that once I was there, I couldn't tear myself away from those lights. It was mesmerizing. I was in such a haze to start with, and the lights were all I could focus on. If it hadn't been for Linden, who knows what would've happened? Somehow, as hypnotized as I was by the lights, I saw her clearly. I guess it was like the same idea as how a lighthouse points ships towards safety, except that ironically she was the only thing out there that _wasn't _lit up. But it didn't matter. She was there.

I know she's pissed at me. Who wouldn't be? Hell, I'm pissed at myself. It's all one giant mess. Some of it's my fault, some of it's Gil, some of it was someone else in the department, or City Hall, or God knows who… I'm convinced that this goes higher up than just Gil. There has to be a way to fix it though. Linden and me, we _gotta_ be able to fix it.

_Linden_

Sometimes I wonder what the hell goes on in Holder's head. Seriously, some of his ideas make a lot of sense, and then BAM! He comes up with crap that's just so unprofessional – sometimes just plain _illegal_ – and it makes me wonder what exactly he thinks he's doing. There are certain things you just don't _do_.

As soon as that last thought formed in my head – that there are some things you just don't do – the little voice in my head shrieked at me, _Oh really, Sarah? Are there things __**you**__ wouldn't do to solve a case?_ Alright, conscience, you've got me there. Who am I to judge someone else about their methods? That's pretty fucked up, because I'm the first one to break the rules when need be. But the shit-storm Holder caused by the way he broke the rules this time… we're all paying for it, not just him. I guess that's why I'm so pissed – because I have to help clean up his mess. I don't even clean up my own messes especially well – though I'm especially talented at _making _them – and I certainly don't want to clean up someone else's.

…

DAY 17

Linden and Holder were on their way to the FBI building in Seattle to meet with a mob expert that Linden knew. She parked in the visitor parking area and took the keys slowly out of the ignition. Holder watched her, noticing that she appeared to be lost in thought. Her focus looked like it was on something on the dashboard, but at the same time, it wasn't.

"You OK, Linden?" Holder asked. The question seemed to bring her out of her haze, and back to reality. The scowl returned to her face – the one that she seemed to have reserved just for him in the past few days – and she turned slowly to face him. He'd seen that scowl directed at other people many times, but boy oh boy, he was almost afraid when that look was directed at him. Like a guilty man in an interrogation room, he immediately felt the need to confess – whether or not he'd actually done anything wrong. Anything to make her stop looking at him like that.

"Linden, I… I swear, uh… that picture. I, uh, I know you think it was me… Linden, I _swear_, I really thought… I mean, I had no reason to think that Gil would…" Suddenly he couldn't form a complete sentence. She continued to look at him, without blinking or changing her expression whatsoever. As if she were looking right through him. It was eerie.

Holder decided he needed to look away from Linden's death stare in order to get his words out coherently. He turned and stared straight ahead out the front windshield. Linden continued to watch him silently.

Holder took a deep breath and continued. "Linden, I'm _sorry_. Maybe you know this and maybe you don't, but I would _not _have knowingly turned in a faked piece of evidence! I know it seems easy for me to blame Gil, but I had _no reason_ not to trust him." His voice cracked just a little with emotion at the last part. He turned back to look at Linden. There was nothing else he could say. If she was still mad, she was still mad.

"OK," said Linden. That was it, just one word. The scary look she'd been giving Holder for days seemed to have disappeared in the blink of an eye. They stared at each other for a minute, neither one sure quite sure what to say next. "Come on," she finally said, "We've got work to do." She pulled on the door handle and was out of the door before Holder could respond. He shook his head and smiled slightly to himself. _No time to waste, as usual_, thought Holder, pushing open his own car door.


	21. 1-900-LINDEN

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 4

DAY 17

Linden and Holder are in the car, waiting to tail Alexi when he comes out of Yannic's restaurant. They've been there waiting for a while.

Holder, being Holder, decides it's time to make more interesting conversation. And besides, he likes giving Linden a hard time. "So what's up with you and that fed? You and that Tom Waits wannabe ever hook up, or what?" Linden just stares into the distance, not acknowledging the questions.

"Oh, snap! Linden rocked the booty call." Linden smiles slightly and glances over her shoulder at him. "Dial 1-900-LINDEN" Holder says in a sing-songy voice.

"That's not even enough numbers." She wants to be annoyed, but she has to admit, he's the tiniest bit funny. She can't help but smile a little.

"Pretty slick Linden, that candy bar move in juvie."

"They trade them in there. It's like money."

"It did seem familiar," Holder replies.

"It was my first job I worked out of the academy," Linden volunteers.

"That right?"

"Yeah."

Holder decides to press her about her past, just a little bit. Sometimes he gets away with it, sometimes not so much, but he's a risk taker. "I thought you said you were running back in the day, when you were in that foster home."

"I didn't say that."

"Yeah you did. You said you bolted every six months." Linden just stares straight ahead, looking like she's kicking herself mentally for ever telling him that. Holder bravely – stupidly? – ignores the red flags that he should maybe have seen then. "It makes sense. You know, with Sonoma and everything."

Linden gives him an icy look. Though, of course, he hadn't mean anything critical by it, he has just crossed the line. He attempts to defend himself. "I'm just making conversation since we're wasting our time here anyway."

But it's too late. It's like something has just snapped in her, and her tolerance for his banter has just evaporated. "You're right, this is a waste of time. _Get out_." Linden starts the car and puts on her seatbelt.

"Come on, Linden... For real?" Holder stares at her, shocked, for a minute before he finally gets out.

"What am I supposed to do our here?" he asks her through the open window.

"Your job. Call in for a car and keep your eyes open for Alexi." With that, Linden drives away.

"Alright… I guess we're back to normal." Holder shakes his head. Just when he thinks he may have Linden figured out, she's still full of surprises.

_Holder_

Well, damn, that sure didn't go the way I thought it would. It was like one second we were having a nice little chat, and the next second she was kicking me out of the car. I guess I should've known better than to bring up Sonoma. She was only pleasantly annoyed with me before that… she would've claimed to have been annoyed, she could easily have told me to shut up… and yet, she smirked and played along. She would never admit it, but she likes the attention, I'm convinced. I'm just a charming guy.

But I admit it, sometimes I forget that there's a line with her, and that when I step over it I'm immediately shut out. I know that it's not that she doesn't trust me, or more specifically that she doesn't trust me _in particular_. She doesn't trust _anyone_ past a certain point. She doesn't want to open up more than she has to, ever. I'm assuming that it's a product of growing up in foster care. Seems like that would've been hard.

I guess I need to work on not sticking my foot in my mouth around her. It seems to happen more around her than anyone else, somehow.

_Linden_

Most of the time, Holder is just harmlessly annoying. This time, however, he was over the line. You'd think he'd have figured out by now where the line is. _Rick is none of his business._ I guess I never told Holder that Jack and I are back here for good, of course, but still… He knows that things between Rick and I have been completely messed up, and it's _really_ not his place to rub it in my face, kidding or not.

He may not do it deliberately – say things that get to me in such a personal way, and make me react without even thinking – but somehow I can't help but snap when he does. And push him away. I've worked so hard to never let anyone in… how does he do it, see through me, despite my best effort to stop him?

It's kinda scary when he sees through me to the truth. No, scratch that. It's terrifying. How am I supposed to protect myself when he can see right through me?

…

When Linden thought about it later, she knew that she shouldn't have kicked Holder out of the car. Sure, he could call the station and get a car brought to him, but still. It was the principle. He had said something she didn't like, yes. It had over the line – without question. He really should have learned to read her better by now, and have a better idea which topics were off limits – or at least **she** thought so. Holder wasn't one for subtlety – using it or picking up on it. After she had calmed down – which wasn't until she had long since left him behind on the side of the road – she did feel bad about her reaction. They'd developed a good working relationship for the most part. She knew that she tended to lash out when she felt threatened. She just never seemed to be able to stop herself.

In any case, they were due to meet up again in a few hours to go over what they had so far on Alexi. Linden generally kept up her stony exterior with everyone, even Holder for the most part, but she decided that in this case a peace offering was in order. She stopped on her way to the station and picked up a coffee and a maple bacon doughnut for Holder, as well as a coffee and a more normal flavored doughnut for herself. She left his on his desk when she got to the office, and then got to work reviewing what they'd learned so far. By the time Holder arrived 20 minutes later, Linden had forgotten that she'd even left him anything.

Holder stopped in the doorway and looked from his desk, to Linden and back again. He smiled ever so slightly – that charming smile that always seemed to get him out of trouble. "Oh, snap, Linden. How'd you know I was hungry?"

"What?" Linden looked up from the files strewn across her desk, momentarily confused. Her eyes rested on the items she'd left on his desk and she realized what he was talking about. "Oh, that? Well, to be fair, you're ALWAYS hungry…" she began. Holder nodded slightly. He couldn't argue with that. "And, you know, I…. uh…" Linden faltered. She was good at knee jerk reactions. She was _not _good at apologizing for them. "I shouldn't have kicked you out of the car. Sorry." She turned back to the files in front of her before the last word was even out of her mouth. It had come out as barely a whisper.

Holder set him jacket on the chair beside his desk and sat down across from Linden. "It's all good, Linden. You're a little abusive, but you're still my BFF."

She glanced up, surprised to have heard him call her _abusive _– wasn't that a little harsh? – to see him grinning at her. _Ohhhh, he's joking. _The corners of her mouth turned up the tiniest bit and she said "Can we talk about work now?" Still, Holder considered it a victory. Cracking Linden's tough shell was one challenge that kept him guessing all the time.

"That's what we're here for, ain't it?" he replied without hesitation.


	22. I Never Do

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 5

DAY 18

Linden and Holder are in the car, as usual. Linden is on the phone with Jack, who had a fever earlier. She's speaking calmly and evenly, but Holder recognizes the concern in her voice.

"You don't have a fever anymore? Good, that's great. I'll be home soon. Just as soon as I can. OK." She closes the phone and puts it away.

She's rummaging around in the car for something. "You wanna smoke?" Holder offers.

Linden shakes her head, muttering "Mmmm-mmmm."

"You sure you don't want a cigarette?"

"Holder…" she says, her tone a warning to him.

"It's just a matter of time, til you're back in the fold." He's watching her intently, noticing that she's not quite herself. "You know Linden, you should live a little."

"Smoking isn't how I define living."

"Alright, just don't go all falling down on me because you can't get your fix." He pauses. "So how's Little Man?"

"He's better. He's probably just trying to dodge school. He has an algebra quiz tomorrow."

"You should tell him to call me, because I _aced_ Algebra last time."

Linden nods and smiles, distracted, but her eyes don't meet his. She's so distracted that she doesn't notice that Holder is still watching her. He can tell that she's preoccupied, no doubt thinking about Jack.

"Alright," he begins, opening the passenger side door.

Linden looks up then, surprised and confused. "What are you doing?" _After being kicked out of the car a few days ago, he's really getting out on his own? Why? I'm not even mad at him!_

"I'm gonna call the station, have a uni send over a car. You go check up on Jack. I got this. I'll make sure Alexi doesn't leave town." He's looking at her reassuringly – seriously – which she isn't accustomed to.

Holder gets out, then leans back in through the open door. She's still looking at him with stunned confusion. "Don't worry about me!" he tells her.

"I never do," she smiles at him. "Thank you." As usual, very few words are passed between them, and yet they seem to understand each other perfectly.

_Holder_

It's rare to see Linden not firing on all cylinders, not working at full capacity. She's so rarely distracted that it's more obvious tonight than I think she realizes. She was so out of it in that car. All I had to do was look at her to see it. It was obvious she was worried about Jack, even though she wouldn't admit it, to me or even to herself. I could tell that she didn't want to let that stop her from keeping tabs on Alexi.

Poor Linden. She's so dedicated to her job, and it can't be easy for her to let something else come first. It's not that she doesn't love Jack – I know that she does. She just cares so much about the cases she takes… She's a single-minded kinda person, which makes it hard for her to pick one or the other.

I just wanted to make it easier for her tonight, send her home for once. Home to her kid, who should be the first priority, but who isn't most of the time. Poor Little Man. But I certainly can't point fingers at no one. Linden's doing her best with a situation that sucks. I feel for them both… I really do. All I can do is try to be there to help when I can.

_Linden_

Jack's OK. He's strong, always has been. He's been sick today, but we've been through worse before. We both have. We fight on, because… well, what choice have we ever had? Sometimes I feel like I'm walking on a tight rope, about to fall – no, plunge – to the ground below, no matter what I do. But life doesn't let you choose your circumstances, so this is just how it is.

I can't get this case out of my head. I remember back when I thought I could walk away, back at the beginning. What a joke. I don't know who I thought I was fooling. I could no more walk away from a case than I could walk away from my own feet.

I just need to get Alexi to talk. He's the key here, he has to be, and he knows more than he's saying. I just need to figure out what Rosie was hiding from her parents.

I just need to find out the truth.

I just really need to solve this case. Then life can go back to normal… or, it can be normal for the first time, really. Normal… whatever that means.

…

Holder had shown up at Linden's door just after she'd been in the hall investigating a strange noise. She'd almost jumped out of her skin when Holder had knocked on the door as she stood just on the other side, still nervous about whatever she'd heard a moment before. When Holder told her that he had Alexi in his car, and that he wanted to talk to them, she grabbed her jacket and they left without delay.

As they set off down the hall, Holder couldn't help but think that Linden looked like she'd seen a ghost. He slowed his pace beside her, causing her to glance back at him, slowing down in turn to look at him. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

Holder continued to look at her with concern. "Linden, you look like you seen a ghost. You OK?" She glanced at the ground, then, when she could feel him still looking at her and realized that he was waiting for her to answer, she slowly looked back up at him.

"It's nothing," she mumbled unconvincingly, knowing that there was no way Holder was going to buy it for a second. After all, he was a cop, trained to read people. She sighed heavily, realizing that he was still watching her and waiting patiently. "I just… I thought I heard something in the hallway, so I went to look… but there was no one there… and then I was still standing right by the door when you knocked… I guess I was just… startled."

Holder could almost see the tension radiating off of her in waves. He decided to try to lighten the mood. "Sounds like you needed to get out of there anyway. Good thing I came by, huh?" Holder grinned at her, that dumb grin he always used when he said something so stupid it was almost funny.

She knew he was just trying to make her feel better, so even though she really didn't, she looked at him and flashed the smallest hint of a smile. He could see that she was faking it, but he appreciated the effort.

"Let's go see what Alexi wants to talk about," Linden said, steering the conversation back to business.

"Right, let's hit it," Holder agreed as the pair started down the hallway again.


	23. Just For A Night

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episodes 6 and 7

**Author's Note: **I know the last few chapters have taken a while, but I've been busy lately - I haven't given up on this story! I'm not sure how this chapter got so long. I couldn't decide if the end was too cheesy, but I felt like a little bit of cute was in order. Please review and let me know what you think!

DAY 19

Sarah Linden is so proud of Jack's quiz grade, she tells him that she's putting it on the refrigerator. That's when she sees it there, staring at her. The sketch of the trees that Adrian had done during the Seward murder case _is on the refrigerator_. She had definitely not put it there. She would _never_ have put it there. Jack hadn't put it there either. It had been packed away.

Linden panics. In a flash, she has Jack out the door. They head for the safest place she can think of. The _only_ safe place she can think of.

In his apartment, Holder's phone rings. " 'S Holder."

"Hey, it's me," says Linden, who is standing with Jack only a few feet away from Holder, in the hallway outside of the door to his apartment. "Are you home?"

"Yeah, why, what's up?"

In answer to Holder's question, Linden knocks on the door. Holder opens it to find the two of them standing in front of him. _This must be big_, he thinks to himself.

"Hey," says Linden.

"Hey," replies Holder. She feels flustered, showing up in the middle of the night, and he's quite curious about what's going on, yet they're both acting like this happens all the time, as if everything is normal. In a weird way, it almost _feels_ normal.

"We need to stay here, just for a night." It's a statement, not a question, Holder can't help but notice. But then, Linden's never been overly concerned with politeness; most of the time she's blunt to a fault. But Holder doesn't mind. He's any easy going guy, and there isn't much he wouldn't do to help his partner. He knows that she would never put herself in this situation – or in _any_ situation that requires her to ask for help – if she had any choice whatsoever.

"Yeah, sure, come in."

After changing her clothes, Linden comes back down the hall to find Holder and Jack on the floor wrestling. _Boys_, she thinks to herself with a smile. At least _they_ can enjoy themselves.

Meanwhile, the head of Security from the Wapi Eagle casino is just outside, watching from her car parked along the street below, as the scene unfolds before her through the brightly lit windows of Holder's apartment. Linden has been told that she is paranoid in the past, however, in this instance her concern is justified. Of course, she doesn't know this. She just has the sensation of being watched.

Holder and Jack have moved on to Monopoly, but Linden doesn't join them. Instead, she keeps watch at the window, staring into the dark and going over what she knows for sure along with what her intuition is telling her, trying to reconcile the two. Trying to work it all out.

Holder momentarily leaves Jack sitting by the board to ponder his next move. He approaches Linden by the window, watching her and sensing her worry. "Maid probably just moved it. Always be putting my Gideon's in the drawer. Makes me lose my place in Exodus."

"The drawing was packed away. This was a message. Whoever did this knows things about me." Inside, Linden shivers at the thought. As someone who tries desperately to hide anything about her that would make her vulnerable, just the possibility that someone knows that much about her is terrifying.

"That old case you were working on? Is that what Carlson was talking about?" Linden doesn't answer, but Holder can sense that he's right. With Linden, he's usually right. He has never seen her so scared, and he wishes there was something he could do. "Hey, trust me on this Linden, you're safe. No one ever comes around here, not even Jehovah's Witnesses."

Then, in a louder voice, as he turns and walks back towards Jack and the Monopoly game, he says, "Only thing we gotta worry about is the youngin robbing us." He looks at Jack. "I said roll for me, not rob me!"

"You owe me rent," Jack replies simply.

"Rent on Pinewood Square ain't two Gs," Holder counters, snatching some Monopoly money back from him.

"I think the zen rock garden and fountain are what's really gonna help me relax," Linden tells him sarcastically from across the room.

"Laugh it up, Linden, my dojo is the sanctuary of light."

Linden smiles as she watches them play, but the smile doesn't last. She continues to look worriedly out the window. She knows that she isn't _safe_, but at that moment she is thankful that at least she isn't _alone_.

_Holder_

I can't believe that Linden showed up at my door. Linden, Miss I-Don't-Need-Anyone, I'm-Not-Afraid-of-Anything. She's one of the toughest cops I know, and it takes _a lot_ to rattle her. No, let me rephrase that. It takes a lot _for her to admit to another human being_ that something rattled her. This Seward trial picture thing… whatever it means, it was no joke to her. I mean, damn, if I could bottle the nervous energy coming off of her, I could run the lights in this place for a week.

At the same time, much as I hate to see Linden like this, it's kinda flattering to be the person that she came to for help. I know that it's cause she had no other choice – I've seen how it kills her to ask people for things, and really, I can't think of anyone else she would've asked – but even so, I know that if she didn't trust me, she wouldn't be here. She would've figured something else out. Most likely kept it all bottled up, which ain't healthy at all. Bad for the chi.

Funny how people always see me as the _good for nothing tweakhead,_ but for some reason, not Linden. Just like nobody else seems to see past her prickly exterior – except me.

_Linden_

I would've given anything to have been able to solve this thing myself. Anything. There's pretty much nothing I hate more than asking for help, depending on anyone for anything. I _hated_ having to show up at Holder's door like that and ask him for help… well, really I guess I didn't really _ask_… I guess I should have probably made it more of a _question_… but one thing I know about Holder, and that's that if it had bothered him, he'd have told me. I like that about him.

I know Jack thinks I'm acting crazy again, but we were really in danger. That drawing was put out intentionally as a message to me. Someone out there knows _way_ too much about me. Someone out there is _watching_ me. I don't have proof, but I know it… I can just feel it.

Or maybe everyone is right, and I _am_ paranoid.

They say that line between paranoia and intuition is razor thin. But I'm not usually wrong about these things. People think I overthink but when it comes down to it… my gut is usually right.

No, I know I'm right this time. I just have to prove it.

…

It was just after 2:00 am when Holder stirred on the couch, where he was sleeping, peering wearily at the small digital clock across the room to confirm what he felt – that it was still the middle of the night. He tried shifting to a more comfortable position, but he had to admit that as much as he liked his couch, it was not meant to be used as a bed. He'd insisted that Linden and Jack take his bed – it was the polite thing to do – but boy did he miss that PosturePedic mattress now. He shifted himself to a sitting position, setting his feet on the floor in front of him. He leaned forward and ran hands over his face. There would be no getting comfortable out here.

He looked up with surprise as he heard the faintest rustling noise from the hallway, and then Linden appeared around the corner. She looked just as tired as he felt. "What's up, Linden?" he asked quietly. "You got your regular 2 hours of sleep and now you're good?" He always wondered how she seemed to run on so little sleep, and she was proving it once again by being awake.

He grinned at her, that stupid, little boy grin that made it so hard for her to be annoyed with him, even when she wanted to be. "Haha," she answered, making a face of sleepy mock indignation. Her eyes moved slowly over the darkened room as she talked. "I've been tossing and turning for what felt like hours. I was afraid I was keeping Jack awake, so I decided to stop fighting it." She paused. "I don't really ever… you know… sleep very well." Without looking at Holder, she walked to the window and peered out at the night.

Holder watched her at the window for a moment, wearing the same worried expression as she had when she'd stood in that same spot earlier that evening. He knew that her mind was wherever it had been earlier, whatever it was exactly that she was worried about. "Some demons are hard to run from," he said quietly. Linden didn't respond, didn't even blink. He wasn't sure she'd heard him. She appeared to be lost in her thoughts.

Sighing with the tiredness that comes from waking up in the middle of the night, he slowly got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. He took out two glasses and filled them with cool water. He padded back over to the window where Linden stood looking out and held out a glass to her. She didn't notice him there at first, though his shoulder was only a few inches from hers. "Here," he said simply, handing her the glass. She smiled slightly at him as she took the water, looking surprised to see him suddenly standing there, but her eyes snapped right back to the window and her smile vanished almost as quickly as it had come. _She really IS lost in her thoughts_, Holder thought to himself.

They stood there, almost should to shoulder in comfortable silence, watching the night before them and sipping their water, for a little while. Holder didn't mind. He was just about to go back and lie down on the couch and leave her to her thoughts, when he heard her take a deep breath and say, in a voice barely above a whisper, "I try to run from them, but it never works. And they're worse when I sleep. So… I don't. Not much anyway." _So she had heard him._

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was still staring out the window. "Hey," he said in a voice just as hushed as hers had been, "didn't I tell you? I guess I forgot. This is a demon-free zone. None of those guys allowed here." He turned to face her then, and the movement was enough to pry her eyes from the street outside. He flashed that same dumb smile as before, the same ones as always, because he was really pleased with his attempt at a joke on the off chance that it would make her smile.

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "_Now _you tell me," she replied, completely serious. Linden was the queen of deadpan humor.

He shrugged and, trying to stifle a grin, he said "I thought you knew."

_He looks so pleased with himself_, Linden thought.

"C'mon, nothing you need to keep track of out there. Time for bed," he told her, taking her glass of water and setting both of them down on an end table. He started walking toward the hallway. She realized suddenly how tired she was, and reluctantly followed him. He swung the door open slowly, to avoid the squeak that the hinges made if he moved the door too fast, and indicated that she should go in. She dragged herself to the edge and sat down, pausing only for a second to appreciate the softness of the mattress before lying back down and pulling the covers up. She braced herself for her regular routine of tossing and turning.

Holder, however, hadn't left the room yet, she noticed. He walked to the closet and took several pillows off the top shelf. She watched him curiously as he plopped them down in a stack next to the bed. "Holder, what are you doing?" she whispered, hoping that she wouldn't wake up Jack.

"_You_ are gonna get some sleep, Linden," he whispered. "Now, there's no demons here, but I'm gonna stand guard just in case." With that, he sat down on the stack of pillows, his back leaning against the side of the bed, midway between the headboard and the footboard. He glanced up at her as she stared at him, dumbstruck.

"You can't sit there all night!" she whispered emphatically.

"Linden, there's no reason I can't. I'm every bit as stubborn as you, and you know it." She had to admit, he was right about that. "And honestly, this may be more comfortable than sleeping on that couch," he added with a grin. "Unless," he paused, "I'm bothering you."

She stopped to consider this. Was it _weird_ that Holder wanted to sit there all night? Of course! Did it _bother _her? She had to admit that she didn't have a _problem_ with it, exactly…

"No," she said slowly, her confusion still apparent, as she shook her head.

"Then just go to sleep, Linden," Holder said quietly. "No demons. Promise."

"OK, OK," Linden whispered sleepily, putting her head back on the pillow. Her eyes closed almost immediately.

_Good_, Holder thought to himself as he leaned his head back against the side of the bed, feeling tired enough to drift off to sleep, even in his sitting position. It felt good to be able to help her, like had he won a battle of some kind. In some ways, he supposed that he had.


	24. 12 Step Program

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 7-8

DAY 20

Linden and Holder are back in the car, this time on the grounds around the Wapi Eagle casino. It's Native American land, and they know that they have no real jurisdiction there. As usual, they are discussing Rosie Larsen.

"Rosie had secrets," Linden insists. "She went all over the city with that camera. Maybe she saw something, or was looking for something. Maybe out here."

"So, what, you're the Ghost Whisperer now?" asks Holder sarcastically.

Linden doesn't answer right away. "I think Rosie felt trapped. She covered her walls in butterflies. Climbed out onto her roof at night to feel free."

"Is that what got you in trouble in that Picasso case, you talking _mumbo jumbo _to the dead person?"

Linden glares at him, pulling the car over at the outer gate to the casino's long, wooded driveway.

"You can walk from here," she tells him, venom dripping from every word.

"Next time you talk to Rosie, why don't you ask her who killed her? Save me doing _real_ detective work," he replies.

Holder takes off his seatbelt and gets ready to get out of the car. "You know, Jack's been telling me you haven't been sleeping. You know, he's worried about you. So don't go all looney tunes, you know? For his sake."

Linden avoids his gaze as she says, "You're right, I hear there's a 12 step program for _shitty moms_ like me." There's ice in her voice.

"Yo, I'm just saying you might want to step back a little."

"You think because you made us some omelets, you know what's best for Jack?" Linden is irate that Holder would be so presumptuous.

"It's breakfast burritos," he corrects her.

"Go deal with your own problems. I've got mine covered." Linden needs Holder to get out of the car and out of her face. NOW.

"Yeah you do," Holder replies, sarcasm dripping from his words. He gets out of the car.

As he gets out, Linden can't help but get in one more jab. "You talk to your sponsor lately? You might wanna give him a call. Make sure you don't go off the rails again."

Holder gives what sounds like a laugh combined with a snort of disgust, and leans in through the open door. "Yeah well, at least _I_ own _my _addiction."

Holder closes the door, and Linden speeds away.

_Holder_

Damn, that woman is hard-headed! Once she gets a thought into her head _no one_ can tell her anything… sometimes even evidence that she's wrong has a hard time convincing her. Granted, a lot of the time she's right… but why does she have to be so goddamn frustrating about it?

OK yes, I get that she's pissed. I did _not _help the situation back there by bringing up the Picasso case. And yes, that remark about talking mumbo jumbo to the dead person may have been out of line… but sometimes she's just so frustrating I can't help but provoke her. Besides, it's not like I'm making this shit up - she _is _acting kinda insane. Sometimes I totally get what she's trying to do, but not this time. I still think she's totally crazy for thinking walking around the woods talking to ghosts is going to help her find anything useful.

I'm pretty sure that she didn't take anything that I said or didn't say in that conversation the way I meant it. I wasn't _trying_ to be an asshole, though God knows, it must have come out that way. I was trying to tell her that she's close to going off the deep end. Partners should be able to do that for each other. Linden makes it pretty fuckin hard to look out for her… on purpose, no doubt.

Now, being stubborn and bitchy is one thing, but you just **don't** insult a man's cooking! And OK, the fact that she called my breakfast burritos "omelets" wasn't really the point, _but damn, Linden, leave my cooking out of this. _You weren't even polite enough to taste those "omelets."

_Why is she so irritating?_

_Linden_

_Sometimes Holder just doesn't know when to shut up._ I mean, seriously. Can there be one second where he's not a sarcastic asshole? Can't he be serious _for once_? I can't explain my connections to my cases, and I shouldn't have to. The important thing is solving them. If I come off as batshit crazy, what business is it of his? If we solve the case, what the hell difference does it make?

_Why is he so goddamn irritating?_

…

The sky is growing light with each passing second. The lawyers for the Native Americans have begun arriving on the island, and the time that Linden and the police department have to find Holder somewhere in the woods is quickly running out. They are combing the woods as fast as they can, but the area is huge. Linden is terrified that they'll run out of time.

"We've got something!" one of the unis shouts suddenly.

The sound of dogs barking rings in Linden's ears, echoing through the woods.

"Come on guys, let's go!" The K9 suddenly runs frantically, pulling hard on its leash. The officers run through the trees as fast as the terrain allows.

The call comes over the police radio. "Officer down! I repeat, officer down."

"Let me through, let me through!" yells Linden, as she pushes through the crowd.

Time freezes in that instant. Holder lays motionless against a tree, bloodied and bruised. It is impossible to tell if he was alive or dead.

Linden hears her own voice as if it's someone else, shouting from very far away… "Holder! Holder?"

…

DAY 21

It was mid-afternoon when Linden stopped by the hospital for the second time. When she had come by earlier that day, Holder's sister, Liz, had flat out told her to leave, saying that Holder needed his rest. Linden didn't disagree that he needed his rest, but Linden also needed to see him. Looking through the window from the hallway just wasn't the same.

Linden carefully scanned the hallway for Liz, who was thankfully nowhere to be seen. She approached the nurses' station with trepidation, wondering if she'd be allowed in. This situation called for all the charm she could muster. Standing in front of the desk, she smiled at the young, red-headed nurse who sat behind it. Her nametag said "Maggie."

"Can I help you with something?" Maggie asked pleasantly.

Linden gave the woman the most sincere smile she possibly could, and took a deep breath. "Hi, I'm Sarah Linden. I don't know what time visiting hours end but I was really hoping to see Stephen Holder…"

"You're with the police, aren't you?" Maggie replied. "I saw you earlier today, talking to his sister."

Linden nodded. "Yes, he's my partner. He had a bad accident, and I… I just wanted to see him for a minute." She smiled nervously, knowing that the young nurse had all the power to grant or deny her request.

Maggie smiled sympathetically. "Well, visiting hours ended a little while ago, but he doesn't have anyone in with him right now, so I think we can make an exception for you." Linden exhaled with relief.

"Thank you so much." She felt like her face was going to crack from smiling so hard at the other woman. Still, it was worth it.

"You know which room he's in, don't you?" Maggie asked. When Linden nodded her head, she waved her down the hall. "Not sure if he's awake or not, but if he is, no work talk allowed. We don't want to get him agitated."

"OK. Thanks so much," Linden said over her shoulder as she walked down the hall towards Holder's room. As she approached the door, she began to get apprehensive. Holder had looked _better_ when she'd seen him through the window earlier that day, but she couldn't get the picture of him lying against the tree in the early morning light, bloody and unconscious, out of her head. She took deep breaths to calm her nerves.

The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open quietly. The curtains were closed, and room was dimly lit by one small lamp in the far corner of the room. The only sound was the faint beeping of a machine. Linden walked slowly and silently to Holder's bedside. As far as she could tell, he was asleep. He still looked _terrible_, pretty much like he'd been through exactly what he'd been through, though she reminded herself that he looked better than he had when they'd found him. Still, she hated to see him that way, his face and arms covered in bandages, bruises and scratches.

She picked up a flimsy plastic chair that sat against the wall, and brought it over beside the bed. She sat down carefully, not wanting to wake him up. She leaned forward, her elbows leaning on her knees. _I did this_, she thought miserably to herself. _I was selfish and stupid and this is the consequence. It's my fault. _She felt tears prickling her eyes, threatening to escape. She hung her head forward, resting it in the palms of her hands, taking deep breaths to try to slow her racing thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Holder." It came out as barely a whisper. She almost didn't hear it herself. She looked up at him again, trying to will the image of him in front of her, bruised but not bloodied, to replace the one from that morning in the forest. The image from the forest seemed to have seared itself into her memory.

Tears were still threatening to fall, and Linden was pretty sure that if she stayed much longer either that nice red-headed nurse would kick her out, or that Liz would return and spit fire at her for being there. She didn't want either of those things to happen, so she stood and replaced the plastic chair by the wall without a sound, then tiptoed back to the edge of his bed. She smiled at him with a mixture of guilt and relief, and without thinking about it, she reached out one hand and laid it gently on his forearm.

She looked at her hand in surprise, as if someone else had put it there, but didn't recoil as she might have if it had been anyone else. She took one more deep breath and removed her hand from her partner's arm, then turned slowly and walked to the door, leaving it ajar just as she had found it when she arrived.

She walked quickly by the nurses' station and mouthed "thank you" to Maggie, who was talking to a doctor but glanced at her as she walked by. Linden slipped out of the hospital as if she'd never been there.


	25. Listen to Me

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 8

DAY 21

Later that afternoon, Linden takes Jack to the airport. She's come to terms with sending him to Chicago to live with her ex, though it's killing her inside.

As they wait in the boarding area, they hear the announcement over the loudspeaker. "We will now continue boarding rows 25-36 on flight 749 to Chicago."

"My row's boarding now," Jack tells her sullenly. He's already asked her why she won't come with him to Chicago. She knows that he's angry, and scared, and confused all at once. She is too.

He stands up and walks quickly toward the gate, with Linden following closely behind him. She calls to him in a low but urgent voice. "Jack! Jack wait! Hey! Hang on." When she doesn't get a response, she grabs his shoulder.

Jack finally turns around. "Mom, _get off_."

"Listen to me. _Listen to me_." She puts her hands on his shoulders. "You're _strong_. You can do this. You are so much stronger than I was when I was your age. And no matter what happens, you will get through it, because… because you are _my boy_, Jack. You are _my_ baby." She hugs him tightly, before whispering simply, "Bye."

Jack starts walking toward the gate – both of them look like they're going to cry. He stops and looks over his shoulder at her. Though she smiles and nods her head quickly, encouragingly, her face betrays the heartbreak she's feeling. Then he's gone from her sight, through the gate and onto the plane.

Linden strides over to the wall of windows overlooking the tarmac, looking like she may shatter at any second.

Then suddenly, she's not alone. Holder is standing beside her. "Hey. Little man called to say goodbye," he says simply. She nods.

He stands beside her, looking out the window. He knows that under normal circumstances she avoids any physical contact, but because he can see just how much she's hurting, he decides to risk it. When he stretches his hand gently across her back, resting it on her shoulder and rubbing small circles, she doesn't pull away.

_Holder_

That red-headed nurse told me that Linden had stopped by the hospital while I was asleep this afternoon. She said that Linden had looked pretty shaken up, which ain't surprising, considering the last 24 hours. And then when Little Man called to say goodbye… I knew she'd be hanging on by a thread, if at all. Checked myself out as soon as they'd let me… woulda left even if they'd told me I couldn't. I _had _to be there.

That look in her eyes when I got there… man, I was surprised she was still standing. Looked like a gentle breeze could have knocked her over. Linden is emotional at the very best of times… it's her strength _and_ her weakness. But sending Little Man to Chicago? I may not have known her for very long, but I _know_ how much that killed her. It was written all over her face. And in her _eyes_.

I wished there was something I could've done for her, but sometimes all you can do for someone is just being there. I ain't good at a lot of things, but I can do that.

_Linden_

It's all just too much. I just… I can't.

If I could just do it all better... Be a better mom, instead of hurting my son. Be a better detective, instead of getting my partner captured and beaten.

All of this is my fault. _ALL of it._

Somehow no matter how hard I try, it isn't enough. How in the world do I manage to screw up _everything_?

Ironically, breaking things seems to be the only thing I'm truly good at.

…

If there was one thing that Holder knew, it was that Linden did not relax. She'd already proven it time and time again – and he'd only known her for three weeks. As far as he could tell, she avoided moments to just stop and breathe at all costs. So it came as no surprise to him when, after watching Jack's plane take off and disappear into the clouds, Linden turned towards him and announced "Alright, we have work to do." They were the first words she'd spoken since Holder had arrived beside her at the window, but that didn't bother him. Her gratitude for his presence was all over her face.

The heartbreak that he'd seen in her eyes earlier had been replaced by determination and impatience – the emotions that Holder was accustomed to seeing there. He could tell that a new plan of action was already forming in her mind, and that once set, nothing was going to deter her from following through with it.

Still, to say that the two of them had had a little bit of a crazy day was perhaps the understatement of the year. It had been what? About 14 hours or so since they'd found Holder unconscious in the woods? This was probably the time when normal people would have gone home to rest and recover. But no one had accused them of being normal.

They found Linden's car in the airport parking lot, and climbed in wearily. Darkness was already falling outside. Linden suddenly looked around, confused. "Holder, how did you get here, anyway?"

"Took a cab. Straight from the hospital." She nodded in understanding. If she had to guess, she would say he'd left the hospital against the doctors' advice, based on how he looked. She wondered momentarily how he'd gotten past Liz, his guard dog. She still couldn't believe he had come all the way out to the airport just to be there for her, especially since it had obviously required a lot of effort on his part. It wasn't as though he'd happened to have been in the neighborhood. It was an unfamiliar feeling, this feeling that someone cared.

"You OK, Linden?" His voice broke through her thoughts. She realized that she'd been sitting and staring into space, hadn't even moved to put the keys in the ignition. She shook her head quickly to clear her thoughts, nodding and whispering "Yeah, I'm fine." She looked at him and did her best to smile, as if to prove it.

"Are _you_ OK? Because you look kinda rough," she said to him, half teasingly and half seriously. Anything to turn the attention away from herself.

"Ya know, I feel like I got the shit kicked outta me… but it's all good. Luckily for me, I'm still beautiful." And there was the little boy grin again.

Linden rolled her eyes and shook her head at him, but now her smile was genuine. _Same old Holder, even when he looks – and probably feels – like hell, _she thought.

"So, let me drop you off at your place so you can get some rest," she offered, finally putting the key in the ignition and starting the car.

"What? So I can let you work this case on your own? I don't think so, Linden. We both know you need my help. _I know_, you hate to admit it… don't feel bad. I'm just that good." She was pretty sure he said these kinds of things just to get a reaction out of her, and it worked. She hated to admit it, but he really was funny sometimes.

"Shut _up_, Holder." Her grin and her tone gave away her lack of annoyance. They fell into a comfortable silence, each one lost in thought as they drove away from the hospital and back toward the twists and turns of the case.


	26. Still My BFF

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 9

DAY 21, evening

Later that evening, Linden and Holder are in the car outside the station. Holder has already been in their office, which has been completely cleared out. Lt. Carlson had been there as well, telling Holder that it wasn't his fault that he'd been partnered with Linden, but that he should find a new partner. He'd also said that he was lucky to still have his badge after the mess that had been made of the Larsen case.

"I still got a few amigos down in County," he tells Linden when he's back in the car. "I'll make a few calls first thing, see if I can track down those case files."

Linden just nods. Holder starts to get out of the car.

"Holder, I'm sorry. We shouldn't have split up."

"It happened. We're good, Linden. You're still my BFF," Holder replies without a trace of bitterness. He's wearing that grin he always does when he's telling her jokes. Linden smiles. She always smiles when he calls her his BFF.

"Where you going now? Still stayin at that $120 a night flap joint you call a hotel?"

"Get out of my car," Linden says with a smile. They both laugh. Holder opens the door and gets out into the rainy night, leaning back in through the open door.

Linden is momentarily serious. "Holder, thanks. And thanks for being there for Jack." Holder gives a small nod in acknowledgement.

_Holder_

Linden is Linden, and damn is that woman stubborn. When it has to do with work, it's usually a good thing – helps her get the job done no matter what… though of course it also gets her into trouble almost as often, if not more. Funny how that same quality makes her so impossible when it comes to anything _not_ work related. Not that she's not also impossible to work with… But seriously, why does she insist on staying at those crappy motels? I _think _she knows that she could crash at my place… but of course, only the fear of being physically in danger would make her do it.

Yep, Linden is a tough nut to crack.

_Linden_

I feel so guilty about this whole thing. I have trouble believing that he doesn't blame me for it. Yes, he came out of it OK, but how can he _not_ be angry with me? I'm angry with _myself_, and I'm not the one who was beaten and left for dead in the woods!

Why is this always the way it is with me? I wish I knew why everything around me ends up broken.

…

It was morning, and Holder had found Linden sleeping in her car outside of her hotel. Why she had slept there instead of in her hotel room, he did not know, nor did he ask. She surely had her reasons, but Holder knew she'd most likely dance around them.

He had called over to County to ask about the Larsen case files, only to discover that they knew nothing about them. This was obviously not good, but Holder was pretty sure he knew who _did_ know about them, and he was going to pay him a visit.

"The Larsen case files, Linden. They're gone." Holder let her process that for a minute – she was still waking up – while he walked around to the passenger side of the car and got in. She turned and looked at him as he sat down next to her, an expression of exhaustion mixed with shock on her face. "We're going to pay Gil a little visit. I think he may know something about it," Holder told her. "But first, we're stopping for breakfast."

"No, I'm-" Linden started to protest.

"Don't even think about it, Linden. We're getting breakfast and there's nothing you can say to change my mind. Do I need to take the keys and drive there myself?" Holder looked at her sternly.

"No, fine, I know a losing battle when I see one…" Linden grumbled. Their stubbornness was about evenly matched for the most part, but one topic on which Holder would not compromise was food, especially breakfast. Linden had long since learned this. She steered the car to the coffee shop around the corner, where they stopped at some point almost every day. They parked on the street in front of the small shop and shivered against the cold as they walked to the door.

The aroma that overwhelmed them as the doors opened made Linden realize that she actually _was_ hungry. At the counter, Holder ordered coffee for both of them, a maple bacon doughnut for himself as well as several other miscellaneous pastries. He knew Linden well enough to know that left to her own devices, it wasn't certain whether she would eat at all. She tried to protest when he paid for the whole order, but barely got a word out before he cut her off. "Forget it, Linden. Drink up," he told her, handing her a coffee cup.

Back in the car, he removed his maple bacon doughnut from the bag of pastries and handed her the rest of the selection. "Pick something," he said simply. "And _don't_ try to tell me you're not hungry. I heard your stomach growling when we walked in that door, and that's one scary sound. I can't be hearing that all day."

"Shut up, Holder." She tried, but failed, to hide her smile completely. He was so irritating sometimes, but a good friend at the same time. She couldn't help but feel like she didn't deserve to have someone care that much about her. Especially when she did nothing but mess up his life and threaten his career.

Taking a bite of a blueberry muffin, she debated whether to ask him the question that was on her mind, but then decided she might as well. "Why do you care so much about whether I eat or not, anyway?"

He looked over at her, his face serious for a change. "Why do _you_ care so much whether I hang out in the middle of a bridge in the middle of the night?"

A hint of a smile crept across her face. "Fair enough," she replied. She buckled her seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition. "Alright, we have work to do. Let's go find Gil."


	27. I'm Here

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 9

DAY 22

Linden and Holder are sorting through Gil's storage locker, looking for any trace of the Rosie Larsen case files, and most importantly Rosie's key to the tenth floor of the Wapi Eagle Casino. They are _not_ feeling optimistic, because it's a very large storage locker, containing a very large collection of what appears to be junk.

Linden has just finished a phone call with Jack, who, from what Holder overhears of the call, is doing very well at his dad's house in Chicago. He hears Linden mention an iPod and his own room.

"Little Man OK?" Holder asks after Linden hangs up.

"Yeah, he's great." Linden doesn't sound happy, and doesn't elaborate. Holder suspects that Jack may very well be doing great, but that Linden, on the other hand, is not.

There's silence as they continue looking through piles of Gil's belongings. Holder stops and watches her carefully.

"You know, it's gonna take more than an iPod to win him over." He knows that she _must_ know this, at least in theory, but he also suspects that she still needs to hear it.

Linden shakes her head quickly, as if dislodging those very thoughts from her mind. Based on her reaction alone, Holder can tell that he was right. He can also see that she doesn't want to talk about it. She changes the subject back to work. "The maid is willing to meet us at the end of her shift, open the kitchen door, avoid the cameras."

"_If_ we find the key," Holder reminds her. He's staying cautiously optimistic about that damn key.

He pauses, still not quite willing to let go of the previous topic of conversation, despite how he knows she'll react. "You OK, Linden?"

Linden nods her head. "I'm fine," she replies quickly. Her face, however, betrays her.

But by now – after all of twenty-two long, intense days together – he knows her better than anyone else in the world, possibly better than she knows herself. And he knows that she's obviously not fine. He also knows that she's probably going to keep it all to herself. Still, he puts the offer out there.

"You know, you… you can talk to me. About whatever. If you want. I'm here."

Linden stops looking through the piles of junk. She peers across the storage locker to where Holder is standing and gives him the most genuine smile he has ever seen on her face. They've been through quite a few tough times together in only a few weeks, and they've built up a level of trust between them. Still, this kind of thing has been completely unsaid up til now.

She is touched at his sweet offer, given without even a hint of his trademark sarcastic jokes.

"I know you are…" she begins, then stops. She's genuinely touched, but she's still Sarah Linden, whose immediate instinct when faced with emotions is to redirect the focus to anything else, most commonly onto work. So of course, she changes the subject back to the job once again. "So can we find the key now?"

"Yeah, whatever you say, boss," Holder replies amicably.

_Holder_

I definitely don't envy Linden. She's under so many different kinds of stress at the moment, I doubt she could even identify them all. I wish I could do something to help make things easier for her.

I can't explain it really, but somehow I seem to have developed some kind of sixth sense, some sort of talent for reading Linden's mind. She's not one to open up, and yet… it's like I can sense what she's thinking sometimes. Today in Gil's storage locker isn't the first time it has happened, either. It's not something I can even really explain. We just seem to get each other. I've gotta keep that to myself though, because if anything would scare the shit out of her, it's someone knowing what she's thinking.

But boy, maybe if I think I understand what goes on in that head of hers I should be a little bit afraid, because if I understand Linden's crazy logic… what does that say about _me?_ …Oh, I crack myself up sometimes.

_Linden_

I don't envy Holder right now. I know that I'm not easy to work with at the best of times, but I just feel like I'm more of a wreck over this case than usual. Sending Jack to Chicago has just pushed me over the edge a little bit extra. But I can do it… of course I can.

It's like a battle within myself. _Don't you want Jack to be happy,_ part of me is asking. _Of course_ I want him to be happy. He's my son. So why does it upset me so much to hear that he's happy? Because… he's not here, being happy with me. Not that he was happy when he _was_ here with me.

Logically, I know that he just _couldn't_ be happy with me. I couldn't give him what he needed, and that's really hard to accept. There isn't any greater failure as a parent than having to ship your child off to live with someone else because you can't – for whatever reason – take care of them… and that's exactly what happened. Jack was basically all I had in the world, and now I don't even have him. As I always have, I specialize in destroying everything good around me.

And then there's Holder. Even if I wanted to confide in him – which I just _**can't**_– I wouldn't begin to know how to tell him the things I want to say. What _do_ I even want to say? I don't know! I wouldn't even know where to start, or how… How do you tell someone that just knowing that you're not alone is enough to help you get by?

How do you tell someone that they're pretty much the only thing keeping you from drowning?

The funny thing is… I feel like he knows.

…

He knows now that they shouldn't have done any of it. They shouldn't have broken into Gil's storage locker to search for the Rosie Larsen case files… except, that their hunch had been right, and they'd actually _found_ the files there. Still, it wasn't worth it to him to put Linden in danger like this, no matter _what _Linden herself would say.

Linden sneaking into the casino had been a mistake, one that Holder had helped her make. He was fighting back anger at himself for having let her go in alone, which didn't make sense, of course, because there was no way to _stop _Linden from doing anything once her mind was made up.

He'd tried to get her to let him go in her place, but Linden wouldn't hear of it. After all, he had just been released from the hospital after being beaten at the hands of the casino's own security as it was. So since he couldn't talk her out of it, he'd gone in and created the grandest distraction that he could, buying her time to do what she was determined to do either way. He could only hope that she'd get out safely.

They'd been on the phone while she was up on the 10th floor, looking for something – anything – to prove what they just _knew_ had gone on up there on the night of October fifth. They had to prove it, or the whole case was going to be swept under the rug. The last thing Holder had told her was to turn off her flashlight… except that she said that she already _had _turned off her flashlight. It wasn't _her_ flashlight he had seen. That was where it all started going horribly wrong. He had heard what sounded like a loud thump – maybe Linden being knocked out? – and then nothing. The connection went dead. He'd tried to call her back multiple times, but the call had gone straight to voicemail. That's when he'd known.

As much as he'd hated himself for doing it, he'd had to leave the island without her. Something had happened up there, and though he hated to admit it, he could not fix it this time. He couldn't save her from whoever it was that had found her there. Not only was he outnumbered and still weakened from his injuries, but he also had absolutely no jurisdiction there… and he had already experienced first-hand just how friendly the tribe was with uninvited law enforcement… which was why he was now so worried about Linden.

He tried not to squeal the tires of the car as he took off back towards the ferry as fast as he could without arousing suspicion. He couldn't help her by staying there, he kept telling himself. It didn't stop the sick feeling in his stomach, the feeling that he should have done _something _to prevent this outcome. What he could have done, of course, he had no idea. He had done the only thing he thought he _could _do… but he could see now that it hadn't been right at all.

He had to get back to the station, then he'd figure something out. He didn't have any idea _what_ he'd do, only that he couldn't do anything here on the island, where he had less than no power. Still, as he sat on the ferry on the way back to the mainland, he couldn't help but repeat a silent prayer that Linden would be OK. Apparently she'd already received the only "warning" that the pair of them was going to get, which, according to the chief, was why he'd ended up in the woods, beaten. He couldn't bear the thought of something similar happening to her.

Traffic was light as he drove back through the city to the station to figure out his next move. He was trying desperately to think of ways to calm down, because he knew he was no good to anyone if he was too upset to think rationally. Still, when forced to stop at red lights, he beat the steering wheel in frustration until the light changed and he could move again.

Upon entering the station, he saw Ray, who he quickly waved into an empty office. Ray looked at him with a mixture of concern and confusion. "What's going on, Holder? Everything OK?"

"It's Linden," Holder started. In the short time that they'd worked together, Ray had never seen the detective so distraught. Holder's eyes darted into the hall, making sure no one was there to overhear their conversation. "We weren't supposed to, but we went back to the casino… we got into kind of a mess..."

Ray's expression changed quickly. He was more or less in the loop, because Linden and Holder trusted his discretion. He had proven himself loyal to them time and time again. Ray understood the significance of what Holder was saying, and how serious things could be.

"Something happened to her up there, at the construction site in the casino. One minute I was talking to her on the phone, the next minute the line went dead and her phone was going to voice mail. I couldn't exactly run in there to find out what happened to her, and after my brush with them, I'm worried. Could you just… let me know if you hear anything?" Holder hated having to rely on someone else to hear what was going on with Linden, but it was his only choice. He couldn't just sit by the phone in the station, waiting. He'd have to deal with Carlson about this soon enough, but sooner would _not_ be better than later.

"Sure thing, man. Soon as I hear something," said Ray seriously.

Holder clapped Ray on the shoulder, muttered "Thanks," then turned and stalked out of the station. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do to pass the achingly slow minutes until he heard something, but all he knew was that he had to keep moving. He'd follow up on the few leads he could think of, and hopefully by then, he would hear from Ray.


	28. Look At Me

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 10

DAY 23

Linden wakes up in the same psychiatric ward where she'd ended up during the Seward case. Regi had brought her in that time, after a scared and worried Jack had called her. This time, she has no recollection of how she got there. She only knows that she needs to get _out_.

After a heated conversation with a psych ward staff member and Lt. Carlson, Holder is able to see her - but only as a visitor. He's not quite sure how she ended up there either, but it had something to do with someone back at the casino. That much he knows.

He walks carefully over to where she is sitting, staring into space, and sits down next to her.

"Hey. How're you holding up, Linden?" He's speaking very softly.

Linden, even medicated, is still herself enough to skip the small talk, though her speech slurs slightly. "We don't have a lot of time. What do you got?"

Holder continues to speak quietly. "There was a break in at the waterfront the night of Rosie's death. Yannick Kovarski's guy. He gets arrested. Ames doesn't press charges. An hour later, we got Ames cancelling his weekend plans, heading to the casino. To meet with Chief Jackson most likely."

"And someone from City Hall. I saw a white key card," she reminds him, the slur in her voice again making the drugs in her system obvious.

"So they were plants, at the waterfront. And it went wrong when Kovarski's guy got arrested. We're close, Linden." Holder pauses, only now realizing how drugged she really is, and that she's not completely with him. "Hey," he whispers gently. "Hey, look at me."

Linden _tries_ to focus on Holder, but finds that she can't. "I saw a white key card from City Hall," she repeats.

Holder stares at her, worried, unsure exactly what to do, only knowing that he needs to do _something_. It's painful to see his partner like this, reduced to an almost zombie-like state. The same partner who was usually so full of fire.

"What'd they do to you?" he asks her tentatively, afraid of the answer.

"Please don't leave me here." It comes out as barely a whisper, one full of desperation. It's answer enough to make his skin crawl.

He watches her worriedly before he speaks again. "I'm gonna get you out of here," he promises her.

Just then a nurse taps him on the shoulder. "Sir, it's time," comes a voice behind him. He reaches back to gently swat the hand away, signaling for just another few seconds. He doesn't take his eyes off of Linden. "Just hang tight for a couple hours. I'm _not_ leaving you in here. You hear? I'm _not_ leaving you here." It is a promise as much to himself as it was to her, and he can't be sure she even hears him.

Linden stares straight ahead. Holder is being ushered out of the visiting area, but he's already forming a plan to get Linden out.

…

_Holder _

That place gives me the _creeps_. Seriously freaky bad vibes. It's like those people are there, but they're… not. The worst is seeing Linden in there. Linden, who's sharp as a tack every day of the week, never without a biting remark or a deadpan joke, no matter if she's eaten or slept or not. And sure, she's a goddamn pain in the ass most of the time, but I'd rather her be a pain in the ass than see that glassy look in her eyes. I could _hear_ her pleading for help getting out of that place just by looking at her.

I hated to leave her there even long enough to figure out what to do. I don't think she's in danger, necessarily – though someone clearly got her in there under false pretenses, so I can't _completely_ feel safe that she's locked up there, where they have complete control over her – it's just… it's not her in there. And I'm usually the one person who _can_ – and does – help her, when no one else gives a damn at all. I'm going to do it this time, too. I just have to figure out what… and _how_.

_Linden_

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn! What the hell happened? Ohhhhh, my head…. Damn those drugs they gave me! I need to be able to think clearly! I just want them out of my system… The last thing I remembered I was in the casino and Holder told me to turn off my flashlight… except, my flashlight _was_ off. That's when I knew there was someone else up there with me, and that something bad was about to happen. And then… nothing.

Someone did this to me, brought me here. Which means we're close, really close. I just have to get these people to let me _OUT _of this place… Everything about this place makes my skin crawl. Worst of all, between the drugs and the damn psychologist prodding me with questions, all I can think about is _last time_. She wants me to talk about the Seward case. It's like she wants me to go crazy _all over again_. I don't even want to _think_ about the Seward case. It's over. I've put it behind me the best I could. Not only did it consume me that time, and almost cause me to lose what little I had back then, but it was how I wound up here last time. This terrible place… why the hell would I want to dig all that up again?

That time, maybe I needed to be here. I really _had_ started to lose myself. But not this time. Yes, I'm in deep on this case and yes, I probably care too much about solving Rosie's murder – though really, _someone_ should give a damn about the truth of what happened to the poor girl – and not enough about myself, but I've managed to keep in touch with reality, at least. Sure, I'm plenty fucked up. I always have been! But I'm _**fine**_. This time, I'm here because someone doesn't want this case solved and they're using my past against me, to discredit me. I know it. I just have to find a way to prove it – which I will. _We_ will.

Because this time, whether I like it or not – and I haven't quite decided yet – this time, I'm not alone.

…

After only a brief phone conversation, Rick had shown up later that same afternoon, all the way from Sonoma, to sign Sarah out of the psych ward. Holder had to give him credit for that. However, in the waiting area he had filled out the paperwork and then turned and left before Sarah even walked through the door – but _not_ before she had _seen him_. That was kinda fucked up as far as Holder was concerned.

"I'll help get her out, but I can't be involved anymore. She's your responsibility now," were Rick's exact words to Holder, before he turned and left without a backwards glance at the woman who had been his fiancé only a few weeks before. Holder wasn't glad for his partner's pain, but he was glad that a guy that would give up on her like that was out of her life. It was definitely for the best.

After signing discharge papers and collecting her belongings, Linden had emerged through a locked door into the lobby. Holder had seen her eyes searching the room for Rick, had noticed her face fill with disappointment when she realized that he was no longer there. Then she looked up and saw Holder waiting for her at the other end of the waiting area. Her face changed as she tried to rearrange it into a smile for him, despite her obvious disappointment. Sure, she had basically dumped the guy without much discussion, but rejection was rejection, and Holder knew how it stung. Still, he was there, and he hoped that his presence would comfort her. They walked out of the waiting room, out of the building and into the crisp air together without a word.

Linden stopped at the bottom of the broad steps in the front of the building. Holder halted next to her. She was still feeling the effects of the drugs, and trying to process what had just happened. "So… he signed me out, and then… he left?" Holder was surprised that Linden was even asking. It wasn't like her to broach touchy subjects on purpose. She looked at him, and he nodded only very slightly. "How did he even know I was here?"

"I called him," Holder replied honestly. "I talked to a bunch of people before I figured out who could get you out of there, and then to figure out how to get in touch with him." He paused and then continued, "And whatever you think of him, Linden, I gotta tell you that when I told him what was going on, the guy got on a plane right away." Holder paused again, unsure if he should say more. This time it was Linden's turn to read _his_ mind.

"But let me guess, he said that he's done doing me favors?" She looked him in the eye, but her expression told him that she was braced for an answer that she didn't want to hear. He watched her whole body tense in anticipation.

Holder tried to force his mouth into some semblance of a smile as he sighed and said "Well, let's just say I'm hoping not to need anyone to bail you out of the psych ward again," trying to wrap the uncomfortable truth – that Rick was really and truly done with her – in a more palatable, less hurtful package. Linden looked away and took a few quick breaths to steady herself, nodding her head rapidly in understanding. She was trying to absorb this new information and then let it roll off her back, so to speak, but it wasn't easy for her. She knew that it was a rejection that she had caused, but it didn't make it easier. It never did, really, but that was what she always steeled herself against for just this reason.

Holder had another flash of what was going through her mind – or though he did, anyway – so he gave her a minute to steady herself before he spoke. She was still looking down at her feet, taking deep breaths. "Hey Linden?" he said, then waited until he had her attention. She looked up at him without a word, and her eyes seemed to reveal an emptiness behind them. "I'm still here."

She smiled then, a genuine smile like the one she had given him in Gil's storage locker. "Yeah," she whispered, not dismissively, not even sadly. The earnestness in her voice took Holder by surprise. "Thanks," she said simply. And that was enough, because they understood each other.

He smiled back at her, this unlikely partner of his, and they walked to the car together without another word. One way or another, it would be OK.


	29. They Gotta Pay

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just way too much fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 11

DAY 24

Holder is only in that coffee shop for a few minutes, but when he returns, Linden is no longer asleep in the car where he left her. He has a half a second of panic – he has grown very protective of his partner of late, especially after seeing her so vulnerable in the psych ward – before he sees her, a short distance away, down by the water. She's smoking and staring out into the distance.

"Hey. You should eat something," he says as he approaches her, handing her a paper bag. Without a word she takes out a doughnut, which she bites into hurriedly. "Yeah, they had you drugged up pretty good. You were all docile and glassy eyed like my Aunt Doris."

"It doesn't make sense," Linden says, ignoring Holder's small talk.

"What?" asks Holder, not sure what she's talking about.

Linden has just woken up and hasn't fully recovered from the drugs they'd fed her in the psych ward, but her mind is already back on the case. "Why would the mayor torpedo his own waterfront project? You've got Ames and Chief Jackson at the casino. We know what they were meeting about now, the break in at the waterfront. So what was the mayor doing there? We gotta get that keycard. Let's go."

Holder is taken aback. Even for Linden, this is crazy. "Whoa, Linden. Did they erase your mind while you were in that nuthouse? Remember what happened last time you went to the casino? Kuloms don't mess around." Linden shows no signs of having heard him. She just walks back towards the car.

_Obviously Linden must be starting to feel like her old self again_, Holder thinks, _because she's already frustrating the hell out of me._ "Hold _UP,_" he calls to her, scrambling to follow her back to the car. "Look, I know you wanna nail the guy. I feel that. Believe me, but…"

Linden opens the car door. "Talk while you drive?"

_Typical Linden, unable to let the case go for one goddamn second_, Holder thinks to himself as they get in the car. "I'm just saying, you've been sleeping inside your car, you _just_ got out of that place… maybe, I dunno, you wanna take a nap. Shower. Rest a little." He's trying to reason with her, but as usual, she's being impossible. _Why can't she see what she does to herself? _he wonders. 

"So now it's you, too." It's an accusation, and there's a note of hurt in her voice, like she assumes that he's betrayed her the same way she thinks that everyone else always does.

"What?" asks Holder, taken aback. He can't believe when she's accusing him of. _After everything? Really, Linden?_

Linden turns to look at him and they stare at each other intently, almost at a stand-off.

"Come on!" Holder isn't going to let her think that, because it's not true. _Of course_ he has her back!

"They gotta pay," Linden replies simply. That's what it all comes down to for her in this case.

"I _know_. We ain't getting back in that casino without a federal warrant." Holder's trying his best to get Linden to see reason.

"Then I guess we'd better get one," Linden replies, as if it's as easy as just filling out paperwork.

_It's going to be another long day,_ Holder thinks to himself.

_Holder_

She's **impossible**! I've never met anyone so hard-headed, so single-minded, so frustratingly stubborn in my life. Sure, I can be stubborn too, but I like to think of myself as a reasonable person… sometimes I don't have any idea how to get her to see reason. This would be one of those times.

I get that she wants justice. I do too. But she's impossible. There are limits, and she just refuses to acknowledge them. Refuses to admit that she can't solve the case by sheer willpower alone. That there are rules and ways that things have to be done and she just ignores it all and runs headfirst into danger, with no back-up plan. And I admire that about her but _damn_, at the same time it's beyond frustrating.

She doesn't understand that she won't be any good to anyone else if she's not also looking out for _herself._ So the only thing I can do about that is try to look after her… but I can't save her from herself. Not every time, anyway.

_Linden_

_Why do no one understand_?

They don't get it. **This is important. **Rosie Larsen's murderer being brought to justice is important. You can't just kill a child and go about your business. And no one else cares. A politician is involved, so everyone just looks the other way, and no one cares. Why am I the only one who sees how wrong this is?

Even Holder looks at me like I'm crazy sometimes. As if me taking a shower is more important than solving this case. _Nothing_ is more important that solving this case! How can I rest when I know that there's more I can do? It's more than my job.

It's the only thing I'm good at.

…

The sun was going down, and it was time to regroup. Gwen had answered their questions about the night of the murder and the cancelled meeting with Eutanis, though she had been evasive and unhelpful, if not completely uncooperative. Neither Linden nor Holder could remember exactly when they'd last eaten, and Holder took that as a sign.

"C'mon Linden, let's go back to my place for a bit and regroup," Holder said as they wearily got back into the car for the five hundredth time that day. Linden arched her eyebrow and smiled questioningly at him. Holder rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, now you've got jokes, huh? Yes, I just said 'Let's go back to my place.' Dammit, let me finish! I've got leftover pizza in the fridge so we can eat _and _talk shop, like I know you like to, and figure out our next move."

"Hey, I didn't say a thing," Linden replied, trying, but failing, to keep a straight face. "Sounds good to me."

They entered Holder's apartment and Holder closed the door behind them, dropped his keys on an end table and headed for the kitchen. "Make yourself at home, Linden," he called as he walked away. Linden stood in the open area in front of the door and noticed that it looked almost exactly as it had the time she and Jack had arrived unexpectedly in the middle of the night. She hadn't taken in as many of the details that time, having been so worried about being watched. Looking around now, she noticed that the place was very "Holder" – neat but not immaculate, homey but not cluttered – comfortable. She thought back to that night that she had called Holder from the hallway, asking if he was home before knocking on his door. How she had been so scared for her safety, and for Jack's.

Jack.

The son that she had shipped off to Chicago, to a father who could be a parent to him. Unlike her. She stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath. Then another. Her feet were suddenly rooted to the spot where she stood, and she felt like she could fall over from the weight of everything pressing down on her. There was nothing within reach that she could hold for support, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on remaining upright. _More deep breaths_, she told herself.

"You want coffee?" Holder called from the kitchen. Linden's eyes snapped open and she returned to reality, suddenly able to move again.

"Yeah, thanks," she called. She watched him through the cut out area in the wall between the kitchen and the living room, moving around, pressing buttons and clinking dishes. Wandering over to his "knowledge corner," she ran her fingers along the spines of the books there, pulling them out at random to look at them. Some of them were new, and some had been there the last time she been there, like the book about Monarch Butterflies. That book had led her to Pt. Eubik, outside the casino… which had led to…

Linden shook her head to forcibly dislodge the image of Holder laying against the tree, covered in blood and possibly dead. She didn't need to go there. He was fine. She glanced in the direction of the kitchen as if to reassure herself one more time that so many of those decisions that she had made earlier in the case had not led to any permanent harm. She pushed the Monarch Butterfly book back in amongst the others and walked back towards the couch and sat down, suddenly aware of how tired she was.

A few minutes later, Holder emerged from the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee and two plates, each holding two pieces of pizza. She smiled, realizing for the first time that day that she was hungry, and accepted both the coffee and a plate. "Were you a waiter in a past life? That was pretty impressive," she asked, referring to the fact that he had carried all of the dishes at once.

"Nah, I'm just an impressive guy," he said, settling himself on one of the barstools nearby. Linden rolled her eyes at him, as usual.

"OK, so…" she began between bites of pizza, and they were back to talking about the case, all thoughts of not being able to take care of Jack, Holder lying unconscious in the woods and all the other things that she wanted desperately to forget, once again left behind for the moment. That was just where she liked those thoughts, and all the others like them.


	30. Got Your Back

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 12

DAY 25

Linden and Holder are at Holder's apartment. They have been discussing the case, but have fallen into silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Rain hammering on the roof is the only sound to be heard.

Suddenly Holder breaks the silence. "You never told me he was your shrink." He looks up at her, "Rick?" Taking a sip of his coffee, he watches her.

Linden looks at him, her face impassive, as she sits on the couch holding a cigarette between her fingers. "Your point?" She hasn't shut the conversation down yet, though once upon a time not so very long ago that would have been her first reaction to this line of questioning. But they have become pretty close in the past few weeks, so she's willing to at least see why he brought it up. This just shows what a difference a few weeks has made.

"Nothin, I'm just sayin…" Holder isn't quite sure if he's asking a question or not. There's silence again, less comfortable this time, as Holder looks around. Now it's Linden who's watches _him_.

"You think I'm gonna go nuts again?" she asks bluntly.

Holder exhales loudly. "Nah, Linden, I got your back's all I'm sayin. Think of me as your sensei in the bloodsport of life."

Linden smiles at that, and they both chuckle. _OK,_ Linden thinks to herself. _Maybe Holder __**is**__ funny._

_Holder_

If you'd have told me when I met Linden that we'd be having this conversation, I would've laughed in your face. She can be the queen of bottled up emotions, to put it _very_ nicely, when she wants to be, which is pretty much all the time, and with, as far as I can tell, everyone in the world. Except that for whatever reason, she's warming up to me. How do I know? Because I pretty much just told her that I would look out for her – basically said that I cared – and not only did she not run screaming in the other direction, not only did she not make any sarcastic comments, but she actually smiled, accepted the support and even seemed to appreciate my corny sense of humor! Talk about a victory…

I knew I'd wear her down with my charm eventually.

_Linden_

Holder can be so goofy sometimes. I don't know what it is about him that puts me at ease. I mean, he can be so frustrating and annoying, of course, worse than a little kid… but it's weird, it's like the way I push people away – because I'm aware of it, and I do it on purpose – it doesn't work on him. He just kinda waits it out and gives me that stupid little kid grin and tells me the world's worst jokes… and I don't know why that works, but it does.

I wonder how long it'll be before I burn that bridge… because somehow, I always do.

…

After all of the hassle and trauma of getting into the casino to investigate – first "unofficially," and then with a federal warrant – and only after Holder's life had been endangered, they'd finally gotten the recording of the casino elevators from the night of Rosie's death. Playing back that tape had been the ultimate vindication for Linden and Holder. Not only was Rosie Larsen on the tape, putting her in the casino elevator on the night she was killed, but so were Chief Jackson, Michael Ames, and Jamie Wright – Richmond's campaign advisor. Finally, all of their work, their wrong turns and false leads, had paid off.

The recording ended, and the two sat in front of the screen, still reeling from the realization of what this meant. They had done it. The case was as good as solved. Slowly, they both sat back from the screen, which they'd been huddled close to in order to examine the grainy footage from the security camera. It was almost hard to believe that they had the evidence they'd been searching for so desperately for so many weeks, right there in front of them. It was almost like it wasn't real.

A small smile swept across Linden's face as she allowed herself to believe that this moment _was_ real. "We did it," she whispered in disbelief.

"_You_ did it, Linden," Holder corrected her. "There's no way any other cop in the station, myself included, would have ever been determined enough to keep going on this case. It was you." Then, to make sure he wasn't being too serious, he added, "You know, my ass was just riding around, keeping you company, taking a little nap in the woods…"

They watched each other and he could see the wheels in her head turning. The trace of a smile quickly faded from her face. She looked down at the floor, and slowly began speaking, her voice coming out barely above a whisper. "No Holder, that little "_episode_" in the woods, that's no joke. That was all on me." She took a deep breathe, and continued. "If you _hadn't_ been OK, I never would have forgiven myself. When it comes to work, we both know I'm driven, and we both know I go to the point of being reckless a lot of the time."

She stared into the distance, not looking at him. "I'm used to it just being my own life that I put on the line, and I'm sorry that I gambled with yours, too." She paused, looking back at him to gauge his reaction. He was watching her intently, not quite smiling, but no looking unhappy either. Looking interested in what she was saying. Like he cared.

He shook his head ever so slightly. "We've been over this, Linden. We're good. I'm _fine_," he insisted, knocking on his head for good measure. "See? Everything still works."

She shook her head at him, smiling slowly. "Well fine, but you can't tell me it was all me. It's not like I could've broken out of the psych ward by myself. And if not for you, who would have insisted that I eat for the past three weeks?"

He chuckled to himself. "Well I guess you're gonna have to face it, Linden, we make a pretty good team. Not bad for someone who don't play well with others, huh?" That was his playful reminder that she had despised the idea of working with him when they'd first been forced into it.

"Haha," Linden said good-naturedly. "You talkin' about me or you?" She stood up and stretched. "Well, come on _partner_, we still gotta go get the bad guy."

"Ready when you are, _boss_," replied Holder, standing up and following her out of the small room.

It was time to finish the job.


	31. Walk With Me

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.

**Spoilers: **Season 2, episode 13

**Author's Note: **I reversed the way I have structured most of the previous chapters this time, and skipped the middle section, so this chapter's a little shorter… I just really wanted to end with that particular scene from the season 2 finale, and it just felt finished, despite the length. I know the updates on this story have slowed down a little - I've been busy lately, and I've also started a Walking Dead (my newest obsession) fanfic, but I have every intention of seeing this one through the end of season 4. Thank you all for sticking with me.

DAY 26

Holder got up and walked quickly to catch up with Linden as she left their darkened office and disappeared around the corner, Rosie Larsen's home movie in hand.

"Yo, Linden. Where're you going? You gonna watch Rosie's video? Now?" he called after her.

Linden stopped mid-way down the hall and turned around to watch him as he caught up with her. She just bobbed her head in response, the same grim, pursed lipped expression on her face that'd been there as they'd sat in their darkened office. She'd barely said a word except to ask him for a cigarette. "Might as well, I guess. Not that it matters now," she finally answered flatly.

Linden was almost always serious about work, but this was different. Something was off. She remained where she was, just stood and looked at Holder, as if by stopping mid-way to her destination, she'd suddenly lost the desire to go there at all, or to go anywhere else. She looked exhausted in every way a person can be exhausted. It was like that last little bit of hallway was just too much.

It was another one of those moments where Holder just… knew. He couldn't explain how, and he couldn't even put into words _what_ he knew.

"C'mon," he said as he walked the last few steps to where she stood, "You're right, we might as well." He took a step past her, but she didn't move. She seemed to be rooted to the spot where she stood. His own exhausted expression softened a little then. "C'mon, Linden. Walk with me." She did move then, and they walked side by side the rest of the way to the room at the end of the hall with the film equipment. There was no need to say anything else.

…

Linden and Holder are sitting in that same stupid car as usual, parked in an alley. Finally, after what had felt like a million twists and turns, the Rosie Larsen case is _closed_. Solved. Finished, for sure this time. Linden knows she should feel relief. Closure. And maybe in some ways she does.

Holders phone rings, and he answers, hoping it's not anything urgent. "Hey, Holder. What? You gotta be kidding me. Yeah, yeah, whatever, we'll be there." He hangs up in disgust. He doesn't even want to tell Linden the news, because he knows she's not going to like it. She'd been even quieter than usual all day. She hadn't even objected to his wanting to drive, which tells him not for the first time that day that something is up. "They found a body down near Seatack. Lou says we're first up."

Linden stares at him with a frown, then gazes out the front window into the distance. Without a word, or even a change in her expression, she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car, shutting the car door behind her. Holder can't even claim to be surprised. He hadn't known exactly what he was expecting her to do, but he had known that whatever it was, it would happen soon.

"Linden," he calls. She leans down to the open window, half smiling at him then, the first time that day. He knows from the look on her face that she isn't coming with him, no matter what. Something tells him that she's just had enough, and he wants to say _something_ to her before she disappears. "We got the bad guy."

"Yeah? Who's that?" He can't answer that question.

"Hey, keep in touch. You're my ride, ya know?"

Once upon a time – only twenty-six days ago, and yet several lifetimes ago to him – he had uttered these words to her as a complaint, back when it was clear that they couldn't _stand_ each other. Now, less than a month later, those same words are the strongest endearment he can think of, and the only thing he can think to say to her before she bolts. Because he knows that she's going to. He doesn't try to stop her, because he knows her well enough by now to know that she needs to go. It's hard to watch your best friend walk away, but he's come a long way in making peace with his demons, and he knows that she needs to do the same.

He starts the car and drives away, hoping that he'll see her again, eventually.

She stands still for a minute in the spot that had been beside the car a moment before, then walks a few steps before she stops to stare at the Larsens' moving and storage sign and the van with the same logo that's parked below it. She takes it all in for the last time. She doesn't know exactly how she feels, but the best way she can describe it is drained, both physically and emotionally. More than drained. Empty. She knows that she did it to herself, again. She saw it coming, she told herself she wouldn't let it happen, but in the end, she couldn't stop herself.

She knows what she has to do. She has to get away this time, now while she has the chance, before she gets sucked in again. Not sure of her actual destination, she turns and walks down the street, away from all of this. Unsure of what she's running from, only sure that it's time to go.


End file.
